Game of Clans
by Linnea the Elf
Summary: Two years after the events of Brotherhood, Ling is still struggling to unite the clans of Xing. Immersing himself in the cold-hearted political intrigues of his nation, he pushes away those who are closest to him. That is, until Greed shows up again... Greeling confusion and definitely some Ling x Lan Fan down the line.
1. Chapter 1

It had been two years since the coup in Amestris, and Ling was sitting on the throne of the Xingese Emperor.

A Chang-clan merchant lay prostrate before him, pleading for his life.

"Please, my Lord," he groveled, "I did not mean to cross into Lee territory! The clan lines have been changing so quickly, I…"

"Silence!" Ling demanded. "You knew exactly what you were doing. The noble house that sponsors you is one of the main opponents of clan cooperation and has been giving me problems since the day I took this throne. Add to that the fact that an arms merchant such as yourself would gain handsomely from increased Chang-Lee hostilities and your excuse is starting to sound more than a bit weak."

The man pressed himself further into the floor and trembled. The boy's words were undeniably true, but his masters had promised him. He would be safe, there was no way the young, naïve boy-emperor would see through their plan. Most likely he would be pardoned by the softhearted idealist, and at worst he would have to pay the fine for crossing clan lines without a proper permit.

The way things were looking how, however, he would be facing a charge of treason.

Ling sighed and leaned forward on his elbow. "Your family needs to learn that youth and idealism are not synonymous with naivety, and beheading you would be a good way to teach them that."

The merchant let out a groan of terror and began mumbling, "Please, oh please, no…"

The Emperor felt an overwhelming surge of pity, but his voice took on a steely aspect, "Why should I show you mercy? What can you offer in exchange for your disgusting, worm-like existence?"

Too frightened to even balk at his description, the blubbering mass threw himself at his Emperor's feet. A shadow immediately detached itself from behind the throne and flew at the merchant, freezing with a kunai at the man's throat.

"Stand down, guard," the Emperor ordered. "I'm in no danger from this dog."

The guard loosened her grip but kept the knife in place. The merchant looked down at the beads of blood running down his neck and squealed in fear. His eyes shifted to the steel below his chin and fixed there, widening.

"Infor… information," the merchant stuttered, licking his lips. "I'll tell you everything I know."

"Which is what, the price of flash bombs?" the Emperor sneered.

"No, no! I can tell you which Chang families are behind the princess and which are trying to usurp her!" he wheezed out in a panicked gasp.

The emperor raised an eyebrow. "And how does a simple merchant come to know something like that?"

The man licked his lips again. "I… I listen. I am one of their main weapons suppliers, and I hear things when I'm making deliveries. Please, please…"

The Emperor nodded to his guard, who dropped the man. He then turned toward one of the men lining the walls of the throne room and called out to him. "Pan-Shu! I want you to take this man and question him privately. Report to me with your results."

The spymaster stepped forward. "And his fate, my Lord?"

The Emperor folded his arms. "We'll see once I get the information."

The merchant, how had been silently sobbing with relief, choked at this, but was soon escorted from the room by the Pan-Shu and several other courtiers. The Emperor looked down the lanes of remaining courtiers, representatives from every family and clan, all ready to stab him in the back if given the smallest opportunity.

He stood from his throne and they all quickly knelt, abasing themselves with false reverence and respect.

"We're done for today," he announced, and then walked behind his throne and out of the chamber's back exit.

* * *

A/N: Pretty different from my last story, but I hope you still enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

The shadowy guard followed Ling through the exit. She found her Emperor propped against the passage wall and breathing heavily.

"My Lord," she asked, "are you well?"

He didn't seem to hear her. "Who knew," he asked of the empty air, "that immortality would be the easy part? In that search, though, I had friends and… people to rely on. Now…" He turned toward her. "A king is nothing without his people, and despite all my effort since taking the throne, this people is not behind me."

"I am nothing."

His guard had been watching her Lord slip into a depressed resignation over the past months, and at this moment she snapped. "My Lord, you cannot say such things! Uniting the clans was never going to be easy. What did we learn from Amestris if not that change brings conflict before it brings peace? You are changing things! You can't just give up because it's not as quick or easy as you want it to be!"

Her heart sank as her friend and Emperor stood proudly on his shaking legs and adopted before her the same steely mask that he wore for the court.

"You overstep your place, servant," he said coldly. "Leave me now, and have food sent to my chambers."

The guard bowed in formal acquiescence, wishing she could recall her passionate words. Wishing she could reach the man who had somehow become so distant.

Saying nothing but the obligatory, "Yes, my Lord," she turned her back and left the Emperor of Xing to walk to his rooms alone.

* * *

The guard wandered toward the palace kitchens to fetch the required food. It was her first time visiting that wing of the palace in person. For some reason, though, she had had no desire to interact with the palace staff at that moment. Even more, she wanted an excuse to see the young Lord again, to pick through the kitchens for his favorite foods in some sort of act of repentance.

She pulled aside one of the small kitchen girls to ask where what she needed could be found, reluctant to interrupt the hurried workings she saw before her. The slave girl was terrified to be faced with a member of the royal entourage, and trembled and stuttered as she tried to answer the guard's questions.

The guard sighed, feeling both guilty for and frustrated with the girl's fear. With many bows and much stammering, however, they eventually managed to gather all the desired items. The guard declared their task complete, and the girl bowed and turned to leave, her face melting with relief at the dismissal.

The guard watched her go, and then hoisted the jar of Amestrian wine they had found into the sling behind her back that usually carried a katana. She traced her steps back to the main halls of the palace. Somehow the incongruous image of a royal guard laden with inordinate quantities of food seemed to attract no attention whatsoever. Perhaps it was the way she slid silently over the sanded wooden floors, or the way her carefully planned steps kept her and her many trays just outside of the peripheral vision of each person she passed. If someone had noticed, it probably would have made the image all the stranger: an honored member of the Emperor's personal bodyguard dancing down the hall with the grace and poise of a ballerina, food piled on her warrior's arms.

Soon she reached the Emperor's royal chambers. She stopped at the servers' entrance, using her foot to compress the folding screen so she could sidle through the opening. She set the food down on the low tables scattered throughout the room and seated herself on a cushion in the corner, the place she normally sat, where she could watch all the room's exits.

The Emperor was not in the room, but the curtain to his bedchamber billowed as if someone were moving behind it.

She could have spoken, could have made some noise to let him know she was there, that his food had arrived. She didn't though. She was content to wait. The Emperor would not be glad to se her, and she was not eager to hasten the confrontation. She knew exactly the cold and distant look that he would wear. Anyways, she was a ninja; she knew how to sit quietly and wait.

Time passed slowly, and the guard started to think back to the young Lord's state that morning. He had been unsteady and weak, perhaps from fatigue or stress. Somehow, though, the symptoms kept coming back to her, tickling at the back of her mind. There was something familiar about them, something she couldn't dismiss as routine ill health.

Then it clicked. The fainting spells! Surrounded by the never-ending feasts and palace cuisine, it had been at least a year since he had had an episode. He had been on edge lately, though, and it wouldn't surprise her if he hadn't been eating. And those symptoms… that was exactly the way he would act before he passed out.

Worried, she ran to the bedchamber and threw back the curtain. As she had feared, she found her king lying unconscious, face down on the floor. In a moment she was kneeling at his side, chocking back sobs of terror for the man she served. She placed her hands gently beneath his head and body and turned him over, revealing narrow eyes that were tightly closed.

"Lord? Lord, please, wake up!" she shouted at him, momentarily losing control and allowing a tear to trickle down from her eye. She placed her right hand under his nose, and almost collapsed with relief when she felt his warm breath.

Somewhat calmer now, she let her hand fall to cradle his cheek. "Lord? … Ling?" she whispered to him. "Please wake up."

She took in the familiar features, relaxed by the unnatural sleep, and remembered for the first time in years just how young he was. He had been fifteen when they had left Xing together with her grandfather Fu, so he was how old… seventeen now? It was so easy to forget, when he was dining with courtiers and subtly mocking their posturing and undercutting their position, or when he exposed his raw fury to an uncooperative clan member, demanding fear where he could gain no respect. It was so easy to forget just how young he actually was.

Greed had aged him. The guard didn't like to speak of that monster, even to herself. It was true though: Greed had aged him… and changed him. Ling himself never spoke of the time when he had been a passenger within his own body, but it must have been terrible. He was never quite the same afterwards, there was always something solemn, sad, and distant that hadn't been there before. He must have seen things, even, in a way, _done_ things with his own hands that he felt could never atone for. The loyal guard had never forgiven the monster for that.

Things had been a little different in the end… She certainly hadn't been there for all of it, nor could she perceive the internal struggle that characterized their relationship, but still, at the end she had felt that the homunculus and the human had been working together, had been fighting for the same thing. That was almost the worst part of it. That monster of avarice had wrested Ling's body from him, had defiled his conscience and destroyed his innocence. Then at the end the monster had changed, had become something almost human… just in time to die. Surely there was no way the homunculus could have hurt her master more.

He was still hurting. Her thoughts returned to the present as she brushed the dark hair out of her young Lord's face. He was still out cold, and she thought that perhaps she should bring some food into the room to see if the smell would awaken him.

Just as she rose to do so, however, his eyes shot open. She turned back in surprise, and saw in them neither the gentleness nor the annoyance that she had expected. Instead they had an amused, sarcastic light to them that she had not seen in a while, and the edges of his mouth twitched into an ironic smile.

"Hey, one-arm girl!" he whispered with effort. "Tell him… I'm here."

* * *

A/N: Hey! If you like it, give me some reviews to guilt me into writing the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Ling awoke to find himself lying on the floor of his bedchamber, with someone standing over him. His eyes cleared as he shed the grogginess of sleep, and he saw with annoyance that the person hovering with concern above him was his personal guard. He had left her in the hallway for a reason… he hadn't wanted her to see how weak he actually was.

Groaning with irritation, Ling waved at her to give him some space. Feeling muscles that had been strained in his fall, he slowly levered himself up to sitting position.

"Food," he demanded, wanting her out of the room so that he could take an inventory of his body undisturbed.

She nodded at his request, but remained standing where she was, apparently caught in indecision.

"I'll be fine, guard," he assured her. "Just bring me some food."

This appeared to make her decision for her, for she bowed and walked out into his main reception room.

Ling took advantage of his time to check his body for the aches and bruises he knew would be there, checking his head to ensure he hadn't hit it on the way down. The fainting spells had been coming more frequently for the past month, often several times in a week. He worried that if the trend continued he might not be able to prevent himself from fainting in public at some point. That was a weakness he did not wish _anyone_ to see, let alone the mass of circling sharks that composed his court. He couldn't allow them to see any vulnerability within him, for if he did he would be off the throne in a heartbeat. Off the throne, and most likely dead.

The guard returned with his food, and Ling forced himself to eat. Funny that a little long-term stress was all it had taken to upset his voracious appetite.

The guard looked on with concern, seeming like she wanted to say something, but holding back. Ling was glad that she kept her thoughts to herself. Several months back his advisors had pointed out the impropriety of allowing a bodyguard to address him informally, and had asked him to reprimand his family retainer for her loose tongue. Honestly, though, he had been glad of the excuse. He had had to make some tough decisions after becoming Emperor, and her constantly-expressed concern certainly hadn't helped.

He finished the food on the tray and then rose. He looked at the guard, the only person assigned to act as his personal security detail even when inside the palace. Assigned by his specific request. "Please escort me to Pan-Shu's chambers," he told her, and she bowed assent.

* * *

Pan-Shu was the Xing Emperor's Master of Spies. He had acted in this office to Ling's father before Ling himself took the crown, and Ling had kept him on in order to gain the advantage of an already wide and fluidly functioning spy network. The negative of maintaining his father's aide, of course, was the fact that Ling could have no guarantee of Pan-Shu's loyalty. A courtier who had been placed in a position of power by the Emperor would naturally see his fate and career as tied to the man who put him in power. Pan-Shu, however, might have any number of tricks up his sleeve…

The female guard opened the door in front of Ling, and scouted the spymaster's quarters before waving her Lord to enter. Ling did, and felt the same wave of disgust he felt every time he entered this room. It was opulent and luxurious, the floor covered with round cushions and the walls shrouded in silk. Ling knew, however, that one of the wall panels opened onto a dark, dank pit, and that all this finery existed simply to muffle the screams.

Pan-Shu bowed to the Emperor as he entered. He was a small, somewhat fat man with a brisk manner and a graying beard, and as soon as the Emperor had seated himself he immediately got to business. "I presume you are here for the report on the merchant?" he asked.

The Emperor nodded, and the small man continued.

"Well, it seems that he knew nothing that we did not already know. He identified Su Chang as the head of those within the clan who oppose Princess May. May Chang's formidable reputation as a warrior and alkahestress has kept Su at bay thus far, but the Princess's upcoming trip to Amestris will be an opportune moment for that to change."

Ling closed his eyes and sighed. "I wish May would stop these trips. I know she's in love, but some things are more important than that."

The spymaster raised an eyebrow at the interruption. "Indeed, my Lord," he responded simply. "In any case, the Princess _will_ be leaving, and Su Chang will undoubtedly be making a move during that time. In fact, I suspect that she is already preparing for it. I have received reports of clandestine meetings between her and those families within the Chang clan who have maintained neutrality up to this point."

The Emperor looked up at this new information.

"I'm afraid," Pan-Shu continued with a frown, "that it will simply be a matter of hitting upon the right price, and many of the families who have stayed out of the conflict thus far will be persuaded to Su Chang's way of thinking."

"What about this Chang arms merchant, then, and his blatant infringement on the Lees?" the Emperor asked. "Is it simply a gambit by Su intended to distract me from internal Chang politics?"

The small man shook his head. "I'm not sure, my Lord." He looked thoughtful. "I do not think that Su thinks enough of you at this point to even believe you need distracting. It is possible that she intents to use an inter-clan war as her excuse for seizing power and rallying the Chang families behind her."

The Emperor frowned. "I see. What do your sources within the Lee clan tell you?"

"The Lee clan is currently very stable, with power resting behind the tenth Prince. I believe he would welcome Chang hostilities as an opportunity to gain a subservient client-clan. He won't start anything for fear of drawing your attention, but there will certainly be no peace treaties coming from that quarter."

"Very well," Ling responded. "It seems that our best course of action would be to have some clandestine meetings of our own with the neutral Chang factions. I will send some of the diplomats from my entourage to attempt to make deals in the Princess's favor. At the very least, it will give us the opportunity to observe which way each family leans. Please have one of your spies inform May Chang of our plans."

The fat man bowed, and then nodded toward the secret panel in his wall. "And the merchant, my Lord? Shall I… dispose of him?"

The Emperor followed his spymaster's gaze and thought he could hear the hoarse, strangled yelps echoing into the room. After a moment, he decided. "No, I want him returned the Changs to spread terrible rumors of his treatment here. If Su Chang fears my grasp of the situation a little more, it might make her hesitate to act. An established basis of fear will also help my diplomats to be taken seriously. Go ahead and tell the merchant that his information was useful, and release him."

Ling knew how much Pan-Shu liked to keep his methods private, and so he watched for a flash of irritation in his subordinate's bow. The spymaster's face was perfectly impassive, however, as he accepted the orders, and he even managed a compliment in traditional sycophantic style. "A wise play, my Lord," he purred.

_This guy is good._ The Emperor mused. _I need to be even more cautious with him than I thought._ Ling stood to go. "I have other appointments to keep this afternoon," he said, "but I want you to keep close tabs on this situation and to inform me immediately if anything changes."

"Of course, my Lord."

With that, Ling left, his bodyguard melting out of the shadows in the corner of the room to follow.

* * *

Ling had an invitation to dine that evening with the head of one of the major clans. Each of the clans kept a mansion within the walls of the capital, and Ling would be traveling to one of the largest of these for the dinner.

As the Emperor would be leaving the palace, preparations were in order. The full strength of the Royal Guard had to be summoned and a palanquin ordered. Ling would have done better without all the fuss, but he couldn't afford to forego the trappings of his office, since they acted as a physical proof of his power as Emperor.

Ling waited for the arrangements to be made and thought about his upcoming meal. The clan that he was going to visit, the Lus, occupied a particularly vital position in inter-clan politics. It certainly had its fair share of enemies, but among the other clans the Lus had the unusual reputation for being well liked. The clan heads had been carefully selected for generations to be charismatic and charming, and the clan carefully cultivated the idea that they were willing to go out of their way to help another clan.

Superficially it would seem like the Lu clan would be the perfect place to start with the goal of clan unification. It would not be too large a change in stance for the Lus, and if they got behind the idea it would certainly make the other clans more willing to listen. Indeed, it had barely been a month since Ling's rise to Emperor when Lu started sending representatives intimating just these thoughts and offering Ling their clan's support. Ling wasn't an idiot, though, and he knew that his power as a new Emperor was nominal at best. If he had accepted their aid at that point there would have been a Lu regency running the Empire within a heartbeat, "taking care of" his throne for him until he officially came of age.

Things had shifted since then, though. In the past two years some of the clans had started to take Ling seriously as an Emperor. Though he did not command the fear or respect his father had, those clan heads in possession of a reasonable amount of intelligence and political savvy at least thought him worthy of consideration. In these conditions, Ling finally felt as though he had a chance of winning the support of the Lu clan without sacrificing his autonomy.

It was a delicate balance, though. The Lus were just as well aware of the political climate as he was, and they must have known at this point that a regency was unlikely. In order to deal with them, Ling needed to make the Lus think that he could be controlled, that a certain number of moves would turn him into their puppet. The head of the clan was shrewd man, though, and it would be difficult to fool him.

A white-robed servant stopped before Ling and gestured that the arrangements were complete. The Emperor nodded and allowed the servant to lead him past the ranks of accompanying soldiers to the palanquin.

It was carried by four heavily muscled slaves and was draped in fine silks. The Royal Guard was formed up around it, though there was a conspicuous hole in the rank just to the right of the palanquin. Traditionally, this spot was reserved for his personal bodyguard, the one that accompanied him in the palace, but _his_ particular guard found the position far too obvious and too removed from the Emperor's person for her liking. Only the Emperor himself and the four palanquin bearers knew that her regular position during a march was underneath the palanquin itself, wedged into the shallow, box-shaped hollow.

Ling saw that his guard had already taken up her place and so mounted the palanquin and seated himself. Soon the procession began moving, and Ling watched his city pass by through the silk.

_Stupid_ he thought. _Stupid how I'm trying to save a land that I haven't even seen with my naked eyes in two years. It could almost be pretend out there._

Soon the ride was over and the palanquin bearers stopped at the stairs to the Lu mansion. Ling stepped out and was immediately met by a parasol bearer, shading him from the afternoon light. He walked up the marble stairs and across the sumptuous carpet that led to the main doors. Instead of motioning one of the servants to knock and announce him, he waited there, staring at the doors. He wanted to show that he didn't _need_ to be announced, that anyone expecting a visit from him should be eagerly awaiting the very moment of his arrival. It was a petty power play, one that could easily backfire, but the Emperor doubted the Lus would leave him here long. It would so disrupt their courteous image.

Sure enough, an old man that was clearly the mansion's head of staff opened the door after only a few seconds of waiting. He bowed so low to Ling that it was almost a kowtow and then graciously welcomed the Emperor on behalf of the Lu clan. The servant then invited them all through the door and into the main reception hall, a room built precisely for holding such an entourage. It was an enormous chamber, designed to look something like a throne room. The reception hall was the place the clan head would always first greet his guests, and the layout could help grant a distinctive first impression.

Many of the other mansions in the city had main reception halls designed to intimidate all who entered, combining unusually harsh building materials, savage architecture, and a reception chair as close to Ling's own throne as could be managed. This effect was greatly dampened in the Lu mansion, however, which, in keeping with their reputation, managed to be more inviting than intimidating.

The floors were matted softwood, and for everything else green, living bamboo seemed to be the material of choice. The walls flowed with delicious green patterns. The ceiling was a lattice that let in dappled sunlight, and the reception chair fairly grew out of the floor. Though it gave off the feel of a perfectly balanced rock garden more than a fortress, it was no less of an ostentatious show of wealth than Ling had seen in any other manner. The bamboo was all fresh cut, and must have to be replaced weekly, if not more often, forming a monumental ongoing project that must have required a legion of servants to maintain.

Ling stopped when he reached the center of the room, forcing his soldiers and servants to crowd in behind him. The head of the Lu clan had been sitting in his reception chair, but once Ling had stopped he rose and gave a deep bow, one perfectly appropriate for a high-ranking clan member to his Emperor. The somber effect of this was ruined, however, when the clan head rose from his bow wearing a wide, happy grin that scrunched his narrow eyes almost shut. "Welcome, little brother!" he called out cheerfully, arms opened wide.

The head of the Lu clan was a man in his late twenties. He was named Xian Lu, and he was the sixth Prince of Xing as well as Ling's older brother.

The Emperor gave a shallower bow and returned a small smile. "Thank you, Xian. I admit that I have been looking forward to this visit. I hear you have a staff of genuine Amestrian cooks, and I have so missed their cuisine since I returned to Xing."

"Well, then," Xian responded, clapping his hands, "let us defer the pleasure no longer! If you will come with me, Ling, dinner has already been laid out."

The use of his name was, of course, a deliberate liberty. Ling had expected that, though, after he had let "little brother" slide. What surprised him more was the fact that they would already be moving to a private conversation. He had expected a good deal more posturing and word games to take place before they left his Guard behind. Xian must be very eager for this conversation, which inclined Ling to believe that he would soon be hearing a completely different proposal than the one he had expected.

The emperor maintained his smile, however, and gave a glad, "Of course!" He nodded to the head of his Royal Guard to stay and hold the troops at attention. Xian led the way down the hallway and Ling followed, alone other than his omnipresent shadow.

He felt rather than saw her there, a constant assurance of strength within the enemy stronghold.

They walked together until they reached the private dining chamber, a beautiful room lined with watercolor murals and exquisite folding screens. The Emperor seated himself beside the low, round table in the center and sensed his guard as she slid behind one of the screens. Xian remained standing long enough to pour them both tea from a pot in the center, and then seated himself on the other side of the table.

As promised, the table held a wide range of Amestrian foods, from fine delicacies to things Ling could remember buying from street vendors in Central. Ling focused on his tea, though, knowing that it would be pointless to try to start eating before Xian had made his mind clear.

"Well, Brother," Xian said, looking across his earthenware cup, "you have come at last. I had sent my invitations to the palace so many times in vain that I thought you meant to reject the Lu clan's hospitality."

"Of course not," the Emperor said, frowning with slight concern. "I have hardly had a moment to myself in the past couple months, what with the difficulties in court. Your standing invitation, however, seemed to me the light at the end of the tunnel of all that work."

Xian accepted the compliment graciously. "What difficulties have had my younger brother so troubled?" he asked.

"Many of the clans are not so willing to cooperate as the Lus. My dream of a unified Xing is indeed a large one and I fear I am frequently out of my depth. As soon as I have gotten two clans to stop fighting, I turn my back and find that four more disputes have developed while I was occupied. I am still a young man, and it seems that many would use this fact as an excuse to ignore my authority."

Ling watched Xian carefully as he spoke, trying not to lay it on too thick. The more insecure his position appeared, the more likely the Lu clan would be to help.

"Surely, though, your efforts of late have not gone unnoticed? You may often feel out of your depth, but I think your methods have been more effective than you think. It is clear, at least, to an astute political observer that the clan interactions of late have been guided by a deft hand."

Ling allowed his face to become more serious. "To an astute political observer, perhaps, but I am still waiting upon the rest of Xing to receive the message. I wish there were a faster way to assert my power over the troublesome clan heads, or to lean on those clans like the Lus who are willing to work with me." He appeared to hesitate for a moment. "How would… _you_ advise me to proceed?"

The asking for advice was key. Emperors might appoint advisors, but they did _not_ ask for advice. Xian had to know what he was leading toward by this point.

His older brother looked seriously across the table at him. "I cannot say that I have any advice. Your situation as Emperor is certainly a difficult one, but you have handled it well. The path you tread now may seem a slow one, but you must continue on it if you are to reach your goal."

A rejection. A clear rejection of the proposal Ling had thought they were meeting here to discuss. The Lu clan did not believe that he could be made into a puppet king or a figurehead. Ling was not going to be able to gain their support without giving them something more tangible than a flimsy hope of stealing the power of his position. What precisely, he wondered, did Xian and the Lu family heads have in mind?

Xian put down his teacup and smiled. "This is enough of the heavy burdens of state, though, don't you think? Our food will get cold if we wait much longer! Please help yourself to anything that fits your tastes."

He wanted to eat first. That meant it was going to be a long proposal. Either that, or it was going to be a proposal that Ling wouldn't like, and Xian wanted him in as good a mood as possible before discussing it.

Obligingly, the Emperor started lading food onto his plate. He made a show of tasting each of the delicacies, but ultimately selected large quantities of the commoner food he had lived on and grown to love during his time in Amestris.

Xian followed suit, asking questions to make it clear that he considered the Emperor the expert on Amestrian cuisine, even though a kitchen full of chefs from that very country had been feeding him since the moment he was born.

Any questions in Ling's mind about whether Xian could still be persuaded to accept him as a potential puppet king disappeared at this treatment. He focused on eating and waited for the man of Lu to make his move.

Once they had both leaned back on their cushions, full, Xian rang for a servant to come clear the trays.

Once the servant had left, Xian looked happily across the table at the Emperor.

"I wish the Lu clan could be of more material assistance to your campaign. The Lus have every interest in clan cooperation, and if we had the opportunity would be happy to lend you our public support. Unfortunately, that is an impossibility at this time."

He looked around as if there might be someone to eavesdrop on them in the small room. "I am sure you have heard, my Lord," he began, reverting to the use of titles, "of the troubles the Lu clan has had of late with our ancient enemy, the Songs. The head of the Song clan, Lamli Song, has been causing us some… inconveniences in the silk trade."

The deep-seated hatred between the Lus and Songs came from the fact that they were both fundamentally merchant clans with an emphasis on luxury items. Their business competition would occasionally transfer into skirmishes and border disputes. Most recently, both sides had taken to hiring raiding parties to target their opponent's caravans, focusing on hitting the most lucrative good: silk. Neither the Lus nor the Songs had the troops to support a proper army, or it probably would have escalated into a full-fledged war by now.

"I have heard something to that effect," the Emperor responded, remaining neutral.

"Indeed, I am sure that most of the clans have heard something about it by this point. It is," he continued in the manner of confiding a secret, "a most embarrassing problem. We've have to delay many of our deliveries, and even cancel some altogether. The Lu name has stood for reliability for centuries, and now we can't even protect our own goods? No," he shook his head, "as much as I and my clan would love to help change the way this empire functions, our trade interests and reputation are a more pressing concern." He smiled apologetically. "You are a man of high ideals, but I'm afraid that my fellow Lu family heads cannot rise to your heights while their wallets are in danger. I hope you can understand this and still know that the Lu clan, and more specifically I myself, am forever bound in friendship to the Emperor."

It was an impressively honest speech, but Ling suspected the catch was still coming. He saw no reason to prolong the wait, and so gave a sad smile. "Of course."

Xian raised his palms in an appreciative gesture. "You see," he admitted, "it all comes down to a want of troops. I simply do not have enough men to properly guard my shipments. I have to choose to either cut the number of caravans in half, or to spread my soldiers thin trying to protect all of them."

_Ah,_ Ling thought, _here it is. He wants me to offer Imperial troops. The question is, are they simply going to be posted as caravan guards, or is Lu planning on launching their long-awaited invasion of Song?_ He asked a probing question: "Surely it would not be too difficult to use some of the clan's funds to hire private merchant guards from among the provinces?"

"Oh no," Xian said dismissively, "I'm looking for real fighting men."

That confirmed it. Lu was looking to start a war, and Ling could not allow this to happen.

"I'm afraid," he began, seeming hesitant, "that I cannot supply you with the troops you need at this time. Another merchant clan has already requested protection for their caravans, and I agreed."

Xian looked surprised, but then quickly concealed it. "May I ask which clan has had the privilege of working with you?" he tried to ask calmly.

The Emperor looked him directly in the eyes. "The Song clan."

The Lu man went completely white as he realized the implications of the statement. While he had been plotting to use the Emperor's men to start a war with his rival clan, Lamli Song had been plotting the precise same thing… and had beaten him to the punch.

The Emperor rose, looking down at the terrified man before him and dropping all pretense. "I do still hope to win the friendship that the Lu clan so vocally professes for me, and so my troops were given on the condition that the Song clan would not be the one to initiate hostilities. Know this, though: if any attempt is made to escalate your petty business rivalry into a war, the Imperial soldiers I have lent Lamli will not hesitate to burn Lu to the ground."

The Emperor's voice was cold, intense, and direct, and Xian's charismatic smile wilted before it. Without it he seemed small and weak, and his response held an uncharacteristic stutter. "Of… of course, my Lord."

"I trust you have nothing more to say to me?"

"N-no, my Lord."

"Very well. Then I will take my leave."

He walked to the door of the small chamber, his shadow easing out from behind a folding screen to follow him. With his hand on the doorknob, however, he hesitated and turned. Xian was surprised to see a wide grin on the Emperor's face.

"Oh, and thanks for the food. It was delicious."

* * *

**A/N: Mwahahaha, super long chapter, which is now also edited! Hope you enjoyed. Review to tell me what you think and to guilt me into writing the next chapter faster.**


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a little over a week since the dinner at the Lu mansion, and the Emperor's personal bodyguard was sitting in the corner of the throne room, watching the proceedings of the court.

The bluff Ling had used to frighten Xian Lu seemed to be holding so far, and there hadn't been any more trouble from that front. In fact, the Lu clan seemed to have stopped their raids on Song goods, and were using the extra men as guards. "Two birds with one stone," Ling would have said with a grin. Would have said, if he were still talking to her. Which he wasn't.

She sat and watched the Emperor as he dealt with the business of his empire. He went from blustering to silent, from furious to amused as each new situation required it. He masterfully resolved a trade dispute between two clans, and seemed a natural peacekeeper. Moments later, he intentionally sparked a furious disagreement over lumber rights using a series of unabashedly provocative statements, seeming every inch the infuriating adolescent.

He was good. He was more than that; he was a _genius_ at what he did. Underneath it all, though, the Emperor's guard could sense how tired the young man was. He had been pushed to his breaking point by everything the past two years had required of him. As cold and calculating as he might seem to the heads of clans and ambassadors that filled the court, his guard knew how much Ling was hurting.

It had been only two months into his reign when Ling had uncovered his first conspiracy. It had been nothing more than luck and a good spymaster that allowed him to discover the treachery at all, for it was well planned and involved many of the highest-ranking aristocrats of Xing, including one of Ling's older sisters.

Ling had stood as Emperor in this very throne room and ordered the lot of them to be executed on the charge of treason. As a man in a dark robe entered the room to carry out that order with a wickedly curved blade, Ling had looked his sister steadily in the eye. It was a merciless, hard stare that he gave her, a stare that told all of those present that their new Emperor was not a forgiving man. The guard who knew him so well, however, had seen the tremor in his hands. She had heard his sobs that night as she guarded his chamber.

That was not the only, or even the most difficult choice that Ling had been forced to make in his role as Emperor.

He had turned to her at first, had let her see his pain and uncertainty. She had responded as best she could with the words of her grandfather and her own ideas of what a king should be. Soon, though, her platitudes fell on deaf ears. He knew that the things he was doing were wrong, but he also knew that they needed to be done. He felt trapped by the necessities of his office and the sacrifices that he knew would be required to reach his once-idealistic vision. Once he had decided that there was no solution, no way out, he had resigned himself to it with nothing more to cling to than the hope that the ends would some day justify the means. In this fatalistic state, the encouragement, suggestions, and genuine concern that had come from his guard slowly became intolerable to him.

One day, the Emperor decided that the only way he was going to be able to liberate the majority of the smaller clans from their inferior client status was by literally decimating the Zhong clan, one of the most famous and influential patron clans. He ordered his agents to incite a riot among the Zhong's client clans, which led not only to a bloody military engagement, but also to the hideous massacre of the Zhong ruling family.

After that day, the Emperor's guard had attempted to comfort him. She had asked him to go through his reasoning, to see if it were any less valid now than it had been when he ordered the riot. She told him that a true king must make tough decisions, and had done everything she could to help him justify his actions to himself. She could tell he wasn't listening, though.

After a discussion with some of his councilors, the Emperor had told her that it would be best if they maintained a more formal relationship. He asked her to refrain from speaking out of turn, "for propriety's sake." She obeyed, but knew that nothing had really changed. She had simply stopped speaking in order to save him the effort of tuning her out.

Yes, Ling had certainly done his best to push her out of his life. At least, that was the way it seemed. Despite everything that had happened, though, she was still the Emperor's personal bodyguard. He could have easily changed that situation, but he hadn't. Contrary to all appearances, she knew him well enough to know that the cold hatred that burned inside him wasn't really directed at her. It was himself that he hated.

He didn't want to hear her logic, her assurances, or her justifications. He didn't want to see her concern, or most of all the simple fact that she _cared_. While the Emperor might not admit it to himself, his loyal guard understood his actions. Ling wanted to feel the guilt and the pain of his decisions as acutely as possible. He wanted to hold onto every dark shadow of his past as tightly as he could, offering his self-inflicted torture as some sort of atonement for the anguish he had caused for so many.

She sat in the throne room now, her face as placid and unrevealing as ever. She made no movements, no noises, and remained completely unobserved by the court. As each courtier whispered or gestured or bustled or waited, she sat there and _understood_.

"I could not accept the ruling of our local Yao magistrate, my Lord. His sympathies and bias clearly lay with the other party. It was a gross breach of justice, and I thought it best to bring the issue to you. You, in your irreproachable integrity and magnanimous grace, could not fail to see the matter rightly. In your profound wisdom, you will, I am sure, back my claim."

"Are you so sure?" the Emperor wondered, raising one icy eyebrow. "I would not be. The magistrate you so casually slight was, after all, a _personal_ Imperial appointment."

The farmer or yeoman or whatever he was started sweating. "Well… I'll just state my case, then, shall I?" The Emperor simply continued to stare at him, so the man continued. "Ah, you see, my neighbor believes that a certain flock of sheep belong to him. I, however, have certain proofs that they are mine…"

The guard's attention wandered from the petitioner, who was presenting a series of rumpled scrolls, to the crowd that filled the room. Her eyes darted from man to man, assessing each as a potential threat. She saw a priest from the Zhang clan cover a yawn with his hand, and double-checked that the innocent gesture wasn't a cover to remove a weapon from one of his flowing sleeves. A foreign mercenary within the milieu shifted on his feet, and her eyes were instantly drawn to him. She eyed his center of balance and decided that he had no intention of attacking, and so allowed her eyes to skip on toward the next suspicious movement.

She saw everyone and everything within the crowd, if only for a split second. Just long enough to identify each person and evaluate their threat. She even noticed when a member of the Royal Guard let out a quiet snore from where he was leaning against the wall, and made a note to tell the Captain that the man had been sleeping on the job.

Ling stood then as if he were ready to announce his decision. He looked down on the little land laborer and said, "Nothing you have shown me in these documents is enough to convince me beyond all doubts that you are the owner of the flock. You have shown me evidence, but the fact of the previous ruling inclines me believe that your opponent must have had similar evidences. Under these conditions of uncertainty, I think that a compromise would be the only fair route."

"You wish to split the flock?" the farmer asked anxiously.

"Yes. Half of the sheep will go to you, and half to your neighbor."

The plaintiff seemed disgruntled at that, but grudgingly accepted the ruling. It was, at least, an improvement on the previous one.

Wong, the court secretary, stepped forward. He was a tall, thin man with a meticulous care for numbers that made him a valuable bookkeeper. "The documents indicated that the flock was composed of 86 sheep. Would you have me write up a deed for each of them which grants 43 of the animals?"

A dark smile came over the Emperor's face. "43 each? Oh, that is not what I had in mind. I believe my words were quite clear on the point: I said each man would receive half of the sheep. Please arrange for a small contingent of the Royal Guard to follow this man to his holdings in Yao. They will cut each of the 86 sheep in half vertically, as fair and even as they can manage it. My 'irreproachable integrity' must, of course, be maintained. This man and his neighbor will have the most equitable division possible, and that is precisely half of each of the 86 sheep."

The plaintiff paled at this. "You're going to slaughter the entire flock?" he asked faintly.

This drew the Emperor's attention back to the small man in front of him. "There you are, my good peasant. I hope you are pleased by my ruling."

"I am a wool farmer, my Lord, not a butcher! I have no idea what I would do with that amount of meat. Better to simply leave the sheep with Gong-Xiao than to sacrifice their lives for no reason!"

"Alas, you came to me for justice, and justice shall be served. Do not petition me further, for my words are final. You will meet with a group of soldiers outside the palace who will help in the division." He smiled happily in farewell. "Good day, fellow clansman!"

The landsman was escorted from the dais supported by some of the friends that had accompanied him there. The Emperor's bodyguard watched Ling as he leaned back in his chair and waved for the next supplicant to come forward. It was a foreign ambassador from a tiny nation to the east, sent by his queen to establish a formal presence within the Xingese court.

As the dark-skinned dwarf worked his way through the crowd, the guard watched him closely, and a smile that didn't touch her mouth danced across her eyes. _Well, that was unexpected. It will certainly be the last time a Yao expects special treatment within the Imperial court._ Her eyes darted back to her Lord for a brief second and saw that his face was unusually pale. _How much has he eaten today?_ she worried.

The ambassador reached the dais and introduced himself as Kashi. "Your Highness, I bring you greetings from Queen Murasuka and all our small court. Your willingness to admit me here is most appreciated by me and is recognized by those who- AGH!"

Ling's body had gone completely limp, and he was now sliding forward off his throne.

The ambassador squealed out a, "Your Highness!" and nobles throughout the crowd screamed, "My Lord!" The guard in the corner ran toward the throne feeling a tightness rising in her chest that was almost suffocating.

She reached the Emperor before anyone else had so much as moved, and had him thrown over her shoulder in a moment. Several courtiers stepped forward, as if uncertain if she were a member of the Royal Guard or some sort of kidnapper, but Pan-Shu waved them back. Ignoring everyone else, the guard herself focused on getting her king out of the throne room as quickly as possible.

"Wong, the back door!" she snapped, and the secretary hurried to push back the wooden panel in time for the bodyguard to dart through it. Once in the passage, she didn't pause for breath, but kept running toward the Emperor's chambers. The corridor wasn't frequented by anyone but servants, but the white-robed individuals she passed all stopped to stare with wide eyes at the unconscious king over her shoulder. Rumors of this would be spreading among both classes…

She arrived at the Emperor's bedchamber and started searching for the smelling salts she had hidden in the room after last week's incident. Before she could pull them out from behind the headboard, though, the weight on her shoulder groaned and spoke in a sarcastic voice.

"Oh, alone in a dark bedroom, are we? I _do_ choose the best moments to check in."

The guard jumped, losing hold of her Emperor's body and dropping it to the ground.

"OW!" the thing complained from the floor. "You do know that it'll be _Ling_ dealing with these bruises for the rest of the week, don't you?"

The guard ignored his whining and cut straight to what she wanted to know. "What are you doing here? I thought you had died."

"Oh, I did. Or, most of me did, anyway. Let's put these little technicalities to the side for a moment, though. You were supposed be telling the kid about me."

The girl frowned and said, "He's not a child," but otherwise declined to reply.

"All right, I get that you don't like me. If you think I'm planning on taking over again, though, I can set you at ease. My spirit's so weak I can barely hold this conversation with you right now, and that's with Ling completely unconscious. When the kid's awake I'm not even powerful enough to get his attention."

She kept frowning at him. "Leave. Now. Go back to wherever you came from and leave the young Lord alone."

"Not so young anymore, though, eh?" He lifted his head off the floor and seemed to be taking stock of the body. "Ling must be quite the lady-killer these days, even with the whole Emperor thing aside."

The guard responded to this with a noise that sounded something like a growl.

The homunculus sighed and let his head fall back to the ground. "Listen. I understand that you want to protect your boyfriend,"

The girl blushed at the word and the creature on the floor gave a weak laugh.

"Or your Emperor. Whatever. You're trying to keep the kid safe, which is great…" He raised one hand and the guard gasped when she saw that it was encased in a hard gray substance. "But what do you think I'm best at, girlie? Tell him I'm here."

"Hmph," she gave a noncommittal grunt. "I'll think about it."

* * *

**A/N: Hey, sorry for the delay and for the rough quality of this chapter; I blame both on a prolonged illness. The next chapter should be much faster in coming, and hopefully much better. Please review if you've got something to say! It means a lot to me.**


	5. Chapter 5

The Emperor of Xing was walking down one of the back hallways of his palace. He was headed toward the largest of all his dining halls, where a banquet was going to be held tonight.

He had woken from his fainting spell the day before with his bodyguard leaning over him. The situation had given him a distinct and unpleasant sense of déjà vu. He sat up with a grimace and asked, "How long have I been out?"

"About an hour."

"Ah. Too long for an easy explanation, then. I suppose it'd be too much to hope that the court didn't notice?"

She had given him a look that clearly said that they had.

"Well, in that case, I've got some cover-up work to do." He pushed himself up off the floor and straightened his robes. "Go and summon Wong. I will speak to him about arranging a banquet for tomorrow. I think it would be best to make a public appearance again as soon as possible. Show that I'm not afraid, that I don't believe my weakness can be exploited."

"Yes, my Lord," she had answered. "Before that, though, there is a matter that I ought to discuss with you."

He had looked into her determined eyes and decided that he was about to receive a lecture about taking care of himself. To forestall this, he had made an instinctive reply in his iciest voice: "You are a servant, and should remain silent on any matter that does not directly relate to your duties. Summon Wong for me. _Now_."

He had been surprised when his words brought a small frown to the normally impassive face of his guard. She had done nothing, however, but bow dutifully and leave the room. Wong came, and they had discussed the necessary arrangements, but that frown had stayed with him.

Now as he walked toward the banquet hall with his guard trailing him as usual, he wondered what had prompted him to be so harsh to her the day before. Surely, if he was so intent on avoiding a lecture, he could have refused her request for an audience in a kinder manner. Why did he feel the need to punish his bodyguard every time she reached out to him or showed any form of affection? Their steps echoed down the empty passage, yielding no answers.

As his own behavior remained a puzzle to him, he turned to watch his guard as she walked beside him. He sensed the flow of chi coming from her as he read the Dragon's Pulse the way he had been taught to as a child. She didn't seem any more perturbed than usual, but it was hard to tell. Perhaps there was a slight hesitancy to her step that hadn't been there before, a little more distance between them than she normally would have put.

Were his quick words the reason for her altered conduct? Was there really any change at all, or was it all in his head? She was always so silent, so steady, that it seemed impossible for Ling to guess what was going on in her mind. He almost wished to ask her, to know for sure if he had hurt her and apologize if he had. But that was impossible. Though he didn't want to admit it, there was a reason he had said the things he had in the first place, and that same reason held him silent now.

Instead, he tried to content himself with watching her, with searching for any external signs that might creep through her wall of stone. He made a study of the woman beside him, the woman who spent most of her life either shrouded in darkness or hiding in plain sight. It was only when they were alone together, he realized, that she made herself obvious. When there was nobody but her and her primary, with no possible assassins from which to conceal her presence, she allowed herself to relax a little. She was walking now beside him in the full light, and the tension that he normally sensed from her while they were standing in court or traversing a crowd was completely gone.

Her movements were lithe, graceful, and relaxed. Her ease of motion, however, did nothing to veil the natural muscular power behind each step and each swing of her arms. Despite her light, dainty figure and casual air, she felt _strong_. She stepped with purpose, the lights along the wall dancing across her dark hair in dull reflection as she carefully kept to his pace.

She didn't look at him, but he had no doubt that she was aware of his scrutiny. In fact, the faintest shade of pink seemed to color her cheekbones as he watched. It was during that moment that Ling realized that he hadn't _really_ looked at his guard in two years – not since Amestris.

She was beautiful.

It was then that a sudden surge of _wanting_ hit him with the blunt force of a crashing wave. The intensity of the feeling was so unexpected and jarring that it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He wanted terribly, acutely, the woman next to him. Her closeness had become some sort of fume, making him lightheaded and forcing him to struggle to breathe. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to touch her hair and to feel her lips against his. He wanted _all_ of her, as much as he could get. He wanted _everything_.

His feet froze on the floor, stopping his stride so abruptly that his bodyguard almost ran into him. At the last second, however, she was able to avoid the collision by channeling her momentum into a quick step to the side.

Ling stood there, his wants and desires boiling within his stomach and screaming through his brain, all craving the touch of her skin. He turned to her, and did the only thing that made sense in that moment. He kissed her.

He dug one hand beneath the knot of hair near the top of her head and placed the other at the base of her neck, pressing her lips against his. He felt her body stiffen slightly in surprise, but she made no real resistance. He tasted her sweetness in his mouth and felt the softness of her skin. She did not reciprocate his amorous motions, but Ling found that he didn't much care. He simply held the contact, allowing the feeling to fill the hole of desire within him. He longed for more… longed to hold her closer and kiss her harder. The craving was like a sharp pain at the center of his being, something that could not be denied.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the overpowering surge of wanting passed. Ling broke off from the kiss, stumbling backwards into the wall of the hallway while the guard stayed where she was, seeming almost on the edge of collapse. The two of them stared at each other, their breathing heavy and their eyes wide with shock. The moment stretched on.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Emperor was able to gather himself enough to address his bodyguard. "That was… unfair of me. I apologize." He spoke without meeting her gaze, and after an uncomfortable pause spent watching the ceiling he added, "I… would prefer that we not speak of this again."

A blush had been rising in the guard's cheeks as some of the surprise wore off, but at his words she shakily attempted to compose her face into its usual stoic mask. "As you say, my Lord," she said with a slight nod of affirmation.

They finished the walk to the banquet in an awkward silence. The guard looked straight ahead, seeming determined to act as if nothing had happened, while the Emperor looked anywhere and everywhere other than at the woman beside him. When they reached the back door to the dining hall, he paused and spoke again without turning towards her. "I think it would be best if stationed yourself farther away from me tonight than you normally do."

The blush the guard had been fighting returned, and Ling stumbled through the rest of his words.

"It's just that… that the point of this is to show me as invulnerable, and I thought it might help if I were visibly willing to face the crowd without the ready protection of my personal guard."

The blush remained, but the guard nodded. "Yes, I think that would be best."

* * *

The banquet passed slowly for Ling. He sat at the head of a large table whose sides were filled with courtiers and visiting nobility. It seemed that each one wanted to approach him at some point during the meal, whether to assert their loyalty or to inquire snidely about his health. He made the appropriate responses, but couldn't really focus on what they were saying.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ he berated himself. _What WAS that? It was completely inappropriate!_

He sent a surreptitious glance toward his guard, who was, for once, actually seated at the dining table. She was near the far end with the other high-ranking retainers, staring adamantly at her plate. _She could request a release after this,_ he worried. _She didn't seem too offended earlier, but it'll probably take a little time for the insult to sink in._

He realized that he didn't _want_ her to leave. Despite the number of times that he had considered promoting the guard so that he wouldn't have to spend so much time with her, he hadn't done it, and he knew now that was because he didn't want her to disappear from his life. He knew he didn't have any right to hold on to her that way, though, so if she wanted to go, he would let her.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts enough to thank the Lee representative that had been talking with him for his support. As the man sat down, Ling waved for the servants to serve the next course, hoping the food would distract his guests for a little while. Heaping bowls of rice were laid down the center of the table, and the diners were free to wrap it inside a steamed collard leaf along with nuts and vegetables. The Emperor laughed quietly to himself as he watched the foreigners scattered throughout the crowd make clumsy attempts to imitate the wrapping patterns of their neighbors. They would have even more trouble with the seaweed later…

Ling drained the rest of his wine and motioned for the royal cupbearer to bring him more. Though this whole event was supposed to be some sort of show of his bravery, he found the prospect of enduring several more hours of feasting to be quite forbidding. He certainly wasn't planning on doing it without help… he simply had to hope that no one noticed his alcohol consumption.

Just as he had thought this, though, Pan-Shu sent him a disapproving glare from his seat on the right side of the table. _Ah well,_ he amended, _I'll have to hope that _most _people don't notice_.

He finished his second cup and noticed that guests were starting to break away from their plates again to approach him. Ling sighed and prepared himself to deal with the new group.

He noted with surprise that he didn't recognize the one at the lead of this particular pack. He was an average-looking man with shoulder-length black hair. He would have to be a pretty minor official to have escaped Ling's studies of the Xingese nobility, but if that were the case, why was he personally approaching the Emperor?

The man was only a couple of paces away when Ling caught a glimpse of steel within the man's sleeves, and then everything slid into place. _Ah_, he thought, far too calmly, _an assassin._

He reached for the sword at his back, but could feel the wine slowing his reflexes. The assassin was only a few feet away now, knife in hand, and there was no way he'd have his weapon out in time. He almost expected to see a dark streak as his guard leapt in front of him, until he remembered that she was sitting on the other end of the room, as per his orders.

A small part of his brain was screaming that this was too soon, that he hadn't had the chance to complete his goals, that he hadn't left the impact he wanted to on the world. Most of him, though, took it far more philosophically, and perhaps with even a hint of relief. _Well_, he mused, _I guess this is one way to solve all my problems_.

As the knife inched toward his heart, Ling used his final moments to look down the table to where his bodyguard was sitting, her eyes widening as she noticed the assassin for the first time. _I'm sorry_, he thought at her.

_Goodbye._

The knife made contact, but Ling felt nothing more than a slight push, and then the blade stopped. His sword was all the way out of its sheath now, and in an instant he had its curved edge at the surprised assassin's neck.

The guests who hadn't seen anything until now dropped their food and cries and gasps echoed throughout the hall. The Royal Guard members who had been stationed at the doors rushed to surround the intruder, and his personal guard was at his side in a moment.

"My Lord!" she gasped. "Are you all right?"

Ling ignored her for the moment, though, and waved for his spymaster. "Pan-Shu!"

The fat man approached, appraising the assassin but also saving plenty of curious glances for the Emperor himself. "What-"

"Take this man away," the Emperor interrupted. "I want to know who sent him."

Pan-Shu bowed. "Of course, my Lord… but will you not be accompanying us for the interrogation?"

"And leave my guests to entertain themselves?" he asked with a small laugh. "Of course not! Remove this bother so that the rest of us can get on with the feast. I, for one, was quite enjoying myself."

"As you wish, my Lord," Pan-Shu replied with another bow. This time, though, he was fairly certain that he caught a glint of admiration in the small man's eyes.

He waved for them all to leave, and then sat back down in his seat at the head of the table. The entire room was staring at him, with expressions ranging from shock and awe to outright disbelief.

"I hope the excitement has not spoiled your appetite, friends," he called to them all, "since we have several more courses to go!" He gestured for a servant and told him, "Please bring out the fish… and make sure everyone has plenty of wine." He grinned. "That stuff does wonders for the nerves."

Soon the room was bustling with food and servants, and each of the guests had turned to marvel and discuss with their neighbors. Some of them were surely wondering if the whole thing was staged, while others were clearly intent on defending their Emperor and their newfound respect for him.

Ling took advantage of the relative privacy to try to explain the night's biggest mystery to himself. _What stopped that knife?_ he wondered. _Why am I not dead?_

His guard, who was still standing beside him, coughed meaningfully and looked down. Ling copied the motion, looking down the front of his robes. What he saw caused him to start back in his chair and turn to his guard with a questioning stare. She gave a small nod of affirmation.

He had looked down his robe just in time to see a disappearing patch of hardened gray lying across the skin of his chest, melting away from the spot just above his heart.

* * *

**A/N: See, I TOLD you I'd get this one out faster. ****I hope I have you hooked now, since this is the part when it starts getting really exciting.** Leave me a review if you liked it or have a comment to share! Oh, and M**erry Christmas, everybody!**


	6. Chapter 6

The Emperor's personal bodyguard entered her Lord's chamber that evening to find him sitting quietly on the floor.

She had been standing out in the antechamber for some time, as he had requested, but the extended silence coming from his room had started to make her nervous. She decided to step in, just for a moment, to check if he had fainted again.

When she parted the curtain, she had been surprised to see him sitting cross-legged in a meditative position instead of sprawled across the floor. He didn't make any response to her entrance, so she allowed her curiosity to pull her fully into the room so she could stand and watch him.

The Emperor remained quiet, his face impassive, for several minutes. The guard had just started to wonder how deep a trance her master had achieved when he ruined the effect by scowling and letting out a grunt of irritation.

"_Yes,_ I know she's here. I'm not deaf."

The guard started slightly at his tone, but the words were obviously not directed at her. If he wasn't talking to her, though, then…

"_Yes,_ I'm aware that I don't need to speak out loud, but believe it or not I'm finding it more than a little difficult to maintain the proper concentration for this _without_ mentally projecting my words. Your infuriatingly inane comments aren't exactly helping, either."

There was a short silence, and the scowl was replaced with a small smile. "I guess you rubbed off on me. Anyway, what have you been doing since you woke up, then?"

A longer pause.

"You WHAT?!" Ling shouted suddenly, his eyes flying open with rage. "That was YOU?! I'm still dealing with the awkward aftermath of that kiss! Not to mention the fact that I practically assaulted the poor girl under the influence of the greed you sent me. What am I supposed to…" He trailed off uncomfortably as he remembered that the said girl was in the room, and tried to fill the unfinished sentence by clearing his throat. He looked back down at his lap.

"Great," he muttered, clearly struggling to maintain the conversation through so many distractions. "Now you've made me act supremely stupid again."

…

"Oh, like you're such a genius!"

…

"Shove it yourself, Greed!"

The guard watched the ridiculous, one-sided back and forth, and felt her confusion, frustration, and insult melt away in the face of the sheer hilarity of the situation. A wide smile snuck its way onto her lips, and her shoulders started shaking with suppressed laughter.

Ling noticed the change and turned to address her directly for the first time. "What's so funny?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

She didn't even hesitate a second to answer. "My Lord sounds like a complete idiot," she pronounced, her smile unwavering.

The Emperor looked for about half a second as if he might get upset. The moment passed, though, and he threw his head back instead, releasing the deep-throated, carefree laugh she hadn't heard from him in ages.

"I'll bet I do," he said, a wide smile lingering. "And I suppose I am one, at that. Greed told me how you knew and how you tried to tell me, and I have to say I feel like a colossal ass. You'll have to add one huge apology to the running tab I owe you."

Her honest amusement had some summoned his characteristic grin from some dusty vault inside his soul. The guard felt her own smile settle more comfortably on her face as the two of them slid into an old, familiar pattern.

"Of course, my Lord," she allowed with a smile.

The banter was familiar, but somehow rusty from disuse. She could see the hesitancy in Ling's eyes now that they were trained on her. There was a gentleness in his response, a slow caution that one might use to approach a timid animal.

_I don't see what reason I've given him to treat _me_ like this. He's the one who's been running away._

She felt she should say something to set him at his ease, to let him know he hadn't hurt her, or at least that she didn't blame him for it. The words wouldn't hold together, though, wouldn't coalesce into any form that would articulate her ideas. So she stayed silent.

After a pause, Ling spoke up again. "Greed would like to speak to you directly, and I've agreed. Saves me from having to repeat all his explanations."

"My Lord, are you sure that's safe?" she asked with concern. "What if he takes over again, or…"

The Emperor silenced her with a raise of his hand. "Greed is my friend, and I trust him," he said in a serious voice. "Furthermore," he added as the guard made as if to resume her objections, "he's not in any kind of shape to keep control of this body if I don't want him to. I'll let him explain, okay?"

She allowed his words to appease her and gave a nod, watching as the man in front of her transformed. Though the body and physical appearance was exactly the same, she could tell that it was a different man entirely. His eyes widened, his smile changed, and his sit became a casually arrogant slouch. Ling was no longer there.

"Hello again, doll," the thing drawled.

"Greed," she acknowledged. "Are you willing to answer my questions now? What are you doing here?"

"All right, girlie, all right. No need to rush it," he told her, waving a dismissive hand and then pulling up some cushions to support himself before continuing. "So you want to know why I'm still around? Your idiot Prince… sorry, Emperor, would be responsible for that. Father was pretty keen on sucking out my soul, and I had a plan or two that meant I didn't mind letting him. Your boyfriend, however, had some other ideas. He tried to hold onto my soul, and though he didn't notice it at the time, he actually managed to tear off a piece when the rest of me left."

"What does that make you, then? Can a piece that small even be sentient?"

"Well, I was unconscious for quite some time. I only woke up about six months ago."

"And what have you been doing since then?"

"Getting stronger. Completing the healing process. I think I'm about at full capacity at this point."

"Sure you are. What else?"

"Huh?"

"What else have you been up to? You've had six months of planning and I want to know what you have up your sleeve."

"Oh, you know," he said with a smirk, "just a little matchmaking." He paused long enough to let her scowl and then continued. "Really, though, I've mostly just been trying to contact Ling. I can see and hear everything even when I'm not in control, but it's damn frustrating not to be able to do anything _about_ it. Those blackouts were heaven-sent in my book."

"All right, you got his attention. What are you planning on doing now?"

"Doing what I can to help." The guard snorted in derision at this, but the monster inside the Emperor's body simply continued in a serious tone. "I know you don't think much of me, but Ling is in a bad place. Come on, he was even pushing _you_ away! The kid needs a friend, and I owe him one. It's that simple."

The guard thought about expressing her doubts on the point, but then realized it was unlikely that she was going to get anything more out of the homunculus. "Fine. Now put my Lord back in control."

"Such a brief breath of freedom," the creature sighed regretfully. His eyes closed, however, and this time the guard felt the Dragon's Pulse carefully during the change. Sure enough, the two of them gave off two completely different set of pulses. The Emperor's chi was strong with slow beats, while Greed's was soft and fast. As long as she paid attention to that in the future, she would always be able to tell who she was talking to.

"My Lord?" she asked before he had opened his eyes again. "My Lord, I have a request to make of you."

He opened his eyes to his usual squint and responded with somewhat comical apprehension: "And what would that be?"

"I want you to stop yourself from trusting Greed."

"Now, hang on–"

"I'm not saying you have to shut him out! I just want you to remember that he's a homunculus, out for his own interests and not for yours, whatever he says. I know now that he's back that you're going to start listening to him and relying on him again, but I don't want you to do it blindly. Keep in mind that his goals might be different than yours, okay?" The Emperor still appeared hesitant, so she added, "For my sake?"

Finally he nodded. "All right, I'll be careful." After a short pause, his smile returned. "Greed thinks you're hyper-suspicious and overprotective, though."

"And what does my Lord think?"

"Oh, I _know_ you're hyper-suspicious and overprotective. That's what makes you such a damn good bodyguard."

It was good to have him back.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this update is so delayed! Some things came up that stopped me from finishing this chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed (especially Lacie's Tune, your review made me laugh) for helping me get back to writing it! The next chapter should definitely be on time, but encouraging reviews are always helpful!**


	7. Chapter 7

The Emperor of Xing sat casually on his throne, his body leaning to the side and his right foot propped across his left knee. The smile that played across his face would have been insolent had his eyes not been so vague and unfocused.

The throne room was empty, though a line of supplicants had probably already started to gather on the far side of the main doors. His morning audiences weren't scheduled to start for another half an hour, but he had woken early, somehow excited for the day to come.

_Ugh,_ Greed moaned from inside his mind, _I _hate _sitting through these things. Listening to peasants and courtiers whine for hours on end… _

_A king exists for his people,_ Ling responded._ If we're not helping anyone, what's the point?_

_Uh, to sit in the lap of luxury while handing down whimsically autocratic judgments for your own amusement? You ever hear that story of how one of the ancient kings of Xerxes made his horse co-monarch for a year? _He_ had the right idea about kingship. Anyways, I don't know how you stand it. The only way I survived watching silently from your head for six months was by ignoring people when they got boring and composing horribly insulting speeches about their appearance instead._

_Were they any good?_

_I'd say there were some gems in the mix._

_Remember any?_

… _How long do we have?_

* * *

It was pretty much the best petition-hearing of Ling's life. Greed had a barrel of insults prepared for each of the regular courtiers, and improvised freely with any new faces.

A muscular yard slave came forward to argue that there had been a mix-up in the records during some of the recent administration changes. The current records said he had a year of labor left before his debt would be paid off, but the man insisted that it should be in only a couple of weeks. Wong seemed to find the situation likely, so Ling approved the shorter sentence. He had to fight to keep a straight face through the discussion, though.

_Does he know he's going to have to give up the loincloth-look once he's free? That might change his mind. You can tell he takes considerable pride in working that little piece of… OHHH! Did he just FLEX?!_

Ling was unable to suppress an audible snort at that one. _I'm trying to take this poor man seriously!_ he objected.

_But of course. I don't think you could take those rippling abdominals any other way._

The parade of supplicants continued, and Ling managed to keep his poker face mostly intact in spite of his housemate's running commentary.

_Look at this courtier's robe: immaculate silk, stylish cut… he _is_ quite the dandy. Oh, I think he likes you! See how he keeps playing coy, keeps glancing away as soon as he meets your eyes? Completely enamored. Either that or he's dead terrified of you and about to vomit._

At one point a pig-keeper with an unfortunately portly aspect and pink face came forward to explain how feeding regulations should be loosened for pork farmers.

_Oh, this one is too easy!_ Greed cried as the man labored up the stairs to the dais, but then fell silent.

It wasn't until the man finished his argument, saying, "So the pigs should really be eating less anyways! They'd be so much healthier on a reduced diet!" That Greed spoke up again.

_Yup, that pretty much sums it up._

The Emperor couldn't restrain a laugh at that one.

After he had finished with the supplicants for the day he dismissed his court and hopped down from the throne. His decisions had been as clear and levelheaded as always, and he doubted that anyone had noticed the difference in him.

As he went to the corner of the emptying chamber to talk to Pan-Shu, who was waiting to give him a report, he saw the spymaster eye him in a contemplative fashion with a small frown on his face.

"What is it?" the Emperor asked.

The frown disappeared and he seemed to jerk back to the present. "I wished to talk to you about the Changs, my Lord. May we speak in private?"

"Of course."

The two of them walked together toward a small room on the floor that was usually silent and unoccupied, the Emperor's bodyguard trailing behind them.

Once they arrived, Pan-Shu waved for the guard to stand outside the door. "This is the main floor… not near as secure as my chambers. I'd like you to watch for eavesdroppers."

It was an unusual request, and the bodyguard looked to Ling with concern to see if he agreed.

Ling recalled Pan-Shu's troubled face from earlier and decided to trust him. A little bit. They still had the Ultimate Shield if anything went wrong. "Go ahead," he told the girl, and she left, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was shut Pan turned to him and began speaking. "Have you heard the latest report from your ambassadors?"

"Of course I did. They made their report in court this morning. They said that…" he stopped as he saw the anxiety in the small man's face. "That wasn't the real report, was it."

"No, my Lord. We were rejected by _every single_ neutral Chang family. May has left for Amestris, and the families have started to realize that she really is serious about marrying this foreigner. Those who were already behind her are willing to stay, but nobody feels comfortable with the thought of an Amestrian ruling their clan. I can only assume that Su Chang has been able to buy over nearly _all_ the neutrals. May won't be making it back to the Chang capital without a fight, but I doubt Su will wait for that. She has been moving troops into towns close to the Lee border for some time now. Now that she's strong enough, this could come to war very soon."

Ling felt for a chair and sat down hard. "How soon?"

"A week. Maybe two."

The Emperor dropped his head into his hands.

_What on earth are we supposed to do about this?_ he asked himself silently.

_You could kill her,_ Greed suggested.

_And precipitate the conflict? No way._

_You could marry her,_ he tried again, somewhat sarcastically.

_Oh yeah, that would solve…_ "everything," Ling finished aloud, slowing as his mind actually began to consider the possibility. Becoming a wife of the Emperor, especially the first one, was a great honor, and not one Su could refuse without visibly rejecting all of Xingese culture. She would have to come and live at the palace in the compound set apart for the Emperor's wives, away from her power base in Chang. It would appease Su's supporters to see her elevated to such a position, and they would respond with increased loyalty to the Emperor. Properly directed, that could become increased loyalty for Princess May. It was a perfect solution.

"I'm going to have to marry her, aren't I," he asked of Pan-Shu.

The old man let out a long, reluctant breath. "Yes," he sighed. "That's why I asked your guard to leave."

Ling looked up questioningly.

"I make a living out of reading people, my Lord. I can tell you have feelings for that girl, as much as you try to suppress them. I didn't want her presence to sway you against what is the only logical choice."

The Emperor let out a harsh laugh. "No, of course not. I know my duty. God… _Su Chang_."

The fat man went down on one knee and looked seriously into his Emperor's eyes. "You are good at this. Very good. Far better than your father ever was. But you are still a man, and I understand that. You need to know that this sacrifice is not as big as you think it is. Once the marriage is consummated you are under no obligation to live as man and wife. You don't even have to _talk_ to her if you don't want to. You can avoid the Wives' Quarters completely and it will be considered nothing but the Emperor's private business."

He placed a hand gently on Ling's knee and continued with almost uncharacteristic kindness. "There will be many marriage opportunities in the future, and not all of them will have to be political. Sometimes you'll get to _choose_. Wait for then."

With that the spymaster stood, straightened his robes, and gave Ling a nod. "You know what needs to be done," he said, and left the room.

* * *

Ling wasn't sure how long he sat there before his guard opened the door. He heard the latch open and shut, but didn't look up or move from his contemplative pose.

She noticed his position and stopped by the door. "Ill news, my Lord?" she asked.

Her words shook him from his revere and he composed his face into a more cheerful expression before looking up.

"Not bad… just surprising. In fact, I am to be congratulated!"

He had hoped to elicit a response from her with those words, but his guard just stood there, expression unshifted, waiting for an explanation.

He sighed. "The Chang families rejected our ambassadors. Su has moved troops toward Lee territory, and I'm going to propose to her to stop a war."

"Ah," she responded. A smile appeared in her eyes, though the rest of her expression remained stoic. "She's a sour shrew, but at least she's pretty. Shall I order up a carriage for your romantic visit?"

He felt his remaining tension drain out of his body at her casual humor. He laughed. "I thought some love letters would be more appropriate. Poetry, allusions to the ancient tales of romance, that kind of thing."

"Hm, yes. Saves you a trip, and I'm pretty sure Su Chang would go for it."

"Su? Really?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yes, she's a definite closet romantic. I'm a woman, so I can tell these things."

He chuckled and answered her, saying, "In that case, I would like your womanly opinion on this sonnet I've begun composing for her." He cleared his throat and began reciting off the top of his head:

"Imagining another day with you

Lying by your side beneath the sun…

Perhaps it is the foul herbs that you chew,

But something 'bout it makes me want to run."

The guard let out a derisive snort that could have been either for the quality or content of the poem. Ling lost his impromptu lines at the interruption and burst out in a laugh.

The guard joined in with a giggle, and soon both of them were wiping tears of amusement from the corners of their eyes.

Ling looked across at the girl he had known his entire life, laughing with her as they hadn't done since childhood, and knew that he could do it. He could do anything.

The laughs subsided, and Ling wasn't surprised when she got right down to business.

"Who will you send to Su with the summons?" she asked.

"I was thinking of sending Wen-Ding. He's not the most tactful of our ambassadors, but he's efficient. He'll get the job done. Plus, I think this case requires some unusual bluntness… we want the entire Chang court to know what sort of summons she's received. The cultural pressure only works if the offer is public."

He stood and felt stable on his feet for the first time since he had realized what he would have to do. "Now, if you'll escort me, I need to speak with Wong."

* * *

When the Emperor told his court secretary that there was going to be a royal wedding in less than a week, the man's face paled. "Do you realize how many preparations are required to host such an event, my Lord? Do you know how difficult it will be simply to authorize each of the individual departments to make the necessary purchases in such a short time? Do you understand the amount of food we'll have to produce, and the number of entertainments we'll have to arrange?"

The tall man's voice attained a higher pitch with each question, and Ling interrupted to forestall the imminent shrieks. "I can see that there is a lot to be done, which is why I'm placing you in charge of it all. Feel free to enlist any of the staff heads that you need. I am confident that you will do a spectacular job."

With that he clapped a hand on his secretary's shoulder and walked off in the direction of the ambassadors' wing before the man could object.

The ambassador's wing held the headquarters and meeting places for all the royal ambassadors, as well as an optional lodging for each. Most of the married men preferred to live with their wives and children inside their family home. Wen-Ding, however, was _quite_ single and therefore much easier to find. Ling briefly considered going directly to the man's rooms, but decided against it almost immediately. It was a formal request he was making, and so he would have to make it formally.

The Emperor stepped into the headquarters without knocking and found the head ambassador, Jenwei, in conversation with the envoy to Chang that had only returned and reported that morning.

Jenwei looked up when he heard someone enter, irritated at the interruption, but then registered who the visitor was. His temperament immediately changed from mild annoyance to a hasty, nervous anxiety. "My Lord," he began, speaking ingratiatingly but quickly. "I must admit to you that the report these diplomats gave in court today was not the truth! They thought it better to reveal the information they had gained privately and therefore took it upon themselves (without any direction from me, mind you) to fabricate a public report. Though they went about it in what was certainly the wrong way, I do not doubt you will agree with their desire for secrecy when you hear the reality of the situation! You see, I must inform you that-"

_Buzz, buzz…_ Greed complained.

Ling silently agreed, and cut the ambassador off with a wave of the hand. "I already know all this, and I understand. I came for a different reason."

Jenwei looked disappointed to find himself the bearer of old news, and surprised that the Emperor might have some other purpose in coming to see him. "What would that be, my Lord?" he asked.

"I wish to request the services of Wen-Ding in an important and delicate matter. Specifically, I would like him to convey my proposal of marriage to Su Chang, one of the great ladies of the Chang clan."

Jenwei looked completely shocked by the idea of a marriage, a fact which did not reflect too favorably on his intellect. Once he had had a moment to process, though, his tirade of words began again. "Congratulations, my Lord! I had no idea! The ways of royalty are above me, of course, but I must say I am surprised at your choice of ambassador to carry _such_ an important message. Really, you must allow me to suggest some that would be more _suited_ to the task. Perhaps the merits of several of our newer diplomats have escaped you; you're such a busy man, that it is understandable! Allow me the pleasure of introducing you to a couple of-"

Ling was forced to interrupt him again. "You are too kind, Jenwei, in offering me your best diplomats, but Wen-Ding will do just fine. Would you be so good as to summon him for me?"

The eager ambassador looked a tad crestfallen, but bowed in obedience and left the room, returning after a couple minutes with the requested envoy.

Wen-Ding was a young, thin man of a middle height. His dark hair was cut short, but it was glossy and full, with bangs left long to frame his face. His bow was of a perfunctory depth, but his smile held a thinly disguised insolence.

_Do you not have any diplomats who are actually, I don't know… diplomatic?_ Greed asked sarcastically.

_Oh, so you're back to the running commentary, then? I thought you were giving me the silent treatment or something._

_Eh, give a guy a break. This is the most I've said in two years! I needed a break after the audience session._

Ling tried to tune out his self-important housemate, refocusing on Wen-Ding and the task at hand. "Wen-Ding, I have a message for you to carry…"

* * *

**A/N: Wow, no big cliffhanger this time. I'm almost disappointed. On the bright side, though, I made the normally scheduled update! Yay! I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as I did. Please leave a review so I know that I'm writing for someone!**


	8. Chapter 8

Su Chang was not sitting on the Chang throne. Within the capital, the clans were forced to make their cultural bows to the Emperor and Empire, but here, at the heart of their territories and far from the Imperial Palace, they could flatter themselves that they were each independent nations. The central Chang court had a throne every bit as grand and elaborate as the one in the capital… but Su wasn't sitting on it. It was too soon for that.

Instead, she sat on a simpler wooden chair, placed a couple steps down on the dais. It placated May's supporters to see her do so, and she wasn't so insecure in her power as to resent it. She needed May's little crew of followers to keep quiet long enough for her to start a war, and then they'd be desperate enough to accept whatever leadership was handy.

The decision to attack Lee wasn't random; the families most hostile toward her growing power all had lands in that direction. Once their farms and towns were burning, she'd be looked on as a convenient savior. She just needed a little more time…

The court announcer intruded on her thoughts, opening the double doors that led to the waiting chamber in order to do his job.

He cleared his throat. "Announcing the entrance of Wen-Ding, ambassador to our Royal Lord, the Emperor of Xing. He comes in official capacity to address the court, and most especially the lady Su Chang."

_What?!_ Su thought in surprise. She hadn't expected the Emperor to make a move so soon. Surely there was no way the ignorant child could have apprehended her plans already. Although… he had seen through her little ploy with the arms merchant with apparent ease.

Su remembered how the once-fat man had stumbled back to her, emaciated, bruised, and broken. He had clearly told all he had to tell under the pressure of torture, so Su had immediately ordered the man executed for his failure.

At the time she had assumed the Emperor had spared the merchant's life out of some form of weakness, some hesitancy or inability to take a life. What if, instead, it had been an intentional gesture: a slap in the face and a warning for Su herself? She felt a growing pit in her stomach as she thought through the steps. Could she really have misjudged the Yao boy so drastically?

_No, of course not,_ she told herself. She refused to believe it. If anyone had thought up that scheme with the merchant it was that bloody-handed spymaster, Pan-Shu. The torture had been almost as good as a signature. _He_ was the one who had outsmarted her before, and it was he who must have anticipated her plans again this time.

She relaxed some as she thought this. She was pleased to believe that she hadn't been wrong, but even more importantly this version of events eased her concerns about the ambassador. So the dutiful little Pan-Shu had told his master what she was planning. So what? What was the soft-hearted Yao brat going to do about it? Send an ambassador to come tell her to play nice?

Su laughed quietly at herself for her earlier panic and gestured at the patiently waiting announcer to lead this "Wen-Ding" into the room.

He ducked out for a moment and returned with an arrogant-seeming young man. He had a quick stride and soon outpaced his escort, arriving at the foot of the dais alone.

He gave a deep bow that bordered ambiguously between respectful and mocking.

"My Lady," he began without being bid. "I bring the kindest greetings from our Emperor to you." As he spoke his eyes traveled boldly up and down her person.

_A bit cocky, isn't he…_Su mused. She knew she was an attractive woman, with her shapely form and unusually red lips. She dressed to emphasize these details, in fact, and added to her natural gifts an elaborately pinned tress of dark curls that framed her delicate face. She wasn't a vain woman, but she recognized her beauty for what it was: a tool.

"I return these greetings," she said with a smile, "and recognize you as ambassador to this court."

Wen-Ding gave another bow at that and continued. "I come to you with a particular request and summons from both the person of Ling Yao and the position of Emperor of Xing."

_… Where is this headed?_ Su wondered. She glanced down the sides of the room to see if any of the councilors and courtiers knew what was coming, but they looked as puzzled as she felt. She looked back to Wen-Ding, keeping her voice and expression unchanged. "I will hear it," she said.

"Conscious of the great beauty and wit of the lady Su Chang, which is heralded throughout the land of Xing, our Emperor has placed great attention on you as of late. Having decided on one final test, he sent me to see for myself the truth of the rumors.

"I see now that rumor has not enlarged your beauty, but belittled it, and so I have the privilege of honoring you on behalf of the Emperor of Xing with a proposal of marriage and a summons to the Imperial Palace. Will you accept?"

You could have heard a pin drop in the room after Wen-Ding finished his speech.

Su sat, stunned, not sure what to say. A small part of her mind was amused by this young, attractive ambassador and the brusque manner in which he had delivered such startling news. Most of her, however, was simply frozen in unthinking shock.

With effort, she pulled herself together and carefully adjusted her features from plain astonishment to pleasantly surprised and flattered. She added a light blush, hoping that any further pause would be attributed to a coy shyness.

_What does this mean?_ she asked herself, running it quickly through her mind. _I'd have to go to the capital for the wedding, and I wouldn't be able to leave again without the Emperor's permission. I wouldn't be able to leave the_ Wives' Quarters _without his permission!_ The thought of such captivity abhorred her even more than the idea of being taken from Chang on the eve of her coup. What could she do about it, though?

She looked again down her lines of courtiers and saw with a sinking heart that even the staunchest of her supporters seemed thoroughly pleased by the proposal. She was, after all, ostensibly being done an honor.

She felt the helplessness of her situation abruptly like a cold knife between her ribs. All the struggles she had gone through to get where she was, to gain some control over her own fate and the fate of her clan… All her progress had been destroyed by that one simple question: "Will you accept?"

Pan-Shu had outmaneuvered her again, and this time so thoroughly that there could be no recovery. Her insides tightened into a ball of dread, but her flattered smile stayed perfectly in place as she parted her lips and gave her answer. "How could I refuse?"

* * *

Ling Yao stood inside the bridegroom's chamber with a heart as still as stone. His movements as he adjusted the formal robe around him were mechanical at best, and his mind was completely removed. Palace staff scuttled around him, adding layers of cloth and working the marriage wreath into his hair, and Ling seemed patient under their ministrations. Truthfully, though, he hardly saw them at all, or noticed their constant adjustments.

His mind was running through the reports he had demanded of Pan-Shu that morning. The spymaster had laughed and told him to take the day off, but Ling had insisted.

_The Lus haven't made any aggressive moves toward the Songs since I talked to Xian. It seems like they took my threat seriously. Though the opportunity has clearly passed for manipulating them into an allied position, I may yet earn their aid through a more forthright means: fear and respect._

Wong stuck his head through the curtain that covered the doorway and said something to the milling staff, no doubt urging speed, before retreating again through the waves of cloth. Ling didn't hear the words, and only registered Wong's intrusion in a distant sort of way.

_The Zhong clan is finally starting to stabilize after those riots. A couple of families have actually managed to band together to seize control and are sharing power between them. We'll see how long that lasts._

It seemed that Ling was ready now, for the men around him had pulled back to admire their work. The peace lasted only a moment, though, before Wong reentered, pleased to see that the Emperor had been prepared on schedule. The lanky secretary gave some words of approval to the dressing crew, and soon was pushing Ling into place outside the double doors of the throne room.

When the doors opened, he was to walk down the center of the chamber and stop at the foot of the dais. Su would follow, and then they would walk up together to stand before the throne. He remembered his orders, though it somehow struck him as silly that the Emperor of such a large nation should be held so strongly to its ancient customs.

He stood in front of the large doors and waited, hearing the nuptial music as it passed, muffled, through the walls.

_Maybe I could forestall the fracturing of the Zhong alliance by bringing them under imperial protection. I could offer them powerful positions within the capital with the proviso that the offer is either for all of them or none of them._

The doors began to creak slowly open, and his ears were greeted with the deafening roar of music and of thousands of people crammed into the same room. The center aisle before him was clear, though, and he began to walk down it, back erect.

_No, that would never work. It's the common enemy of anarchy that has kept those families together thus far. It only works because their clan is in such dire straits. If I were to ease the external pressure on them, the alliance would fall apart at once. They need to know that their united front is the only thing keeping Zhong from being swallowed up by one of their neighboring clans._

He arrived at the foot of the dais, and turned to face the way he had come. Su was near the doors, walking down the aisle he had just traversed. She was a beautiful woman, particularly while wearing the elaborate, white bride's robes that contrasted so sharply with her black hair. It was a fact, however, that he registered as distantly as he did anything about his current surroundings.

_There's nothing I can do for the Zhongs, then, but leave them alone. What about the Lee clan? Pan-Shu seems to think that they were looking forward to Su's little war. Now that I've stopped her military plans in their tracks, what will Lee's response be?_

She reached him at the dais, and held out her hand. He took it, and together they mounted the steps to stand before the throne. An old Xingese priest was waiting for them and began the ceremony once they arrived, wrapping a thick red ribbon over their entwined hands and intoning ancient words.

_Will Lee take up the part of aggressor and invade Chang to get what they want?_

The priest instructed him, and he placed his free left hand over Su's heart.

_No, not after I've made it abundantly clear that I'm paying attention to the situation._

Su mirrored the gesture and looked almost… searchingly… into his face as the old priest finished his speech.

_Lee is ambitious, but they'll wait for a better opportunity. If I arrange things right to provide that opportunity, their ambition might even work in my favor._

"Thus two become one: one soul, one flesh."

Ling recognized his cue and leaned forward to give Su a peck on the lips. _Perhaps I could give them a chance to subdue the radical faction of the Taan clan. I can't be seen as directly involved, or I would earn the enmity of even the more traditional Taans, but with a Lee intermediary…_

The priest unwrapped their hands and a wave of thunderous applause roared across the room. The old man bowed, and a small contingent of the Royal Guard stepped forward to escort the two of them back down the aisle. The Guard took them out the main doors, leaving the people and noise behind, and began walking them to the wedding chamber, a room off the side of the Wives' Quarters built exclusively for the Emperor's use.

As they reached the appropriate hallway, the Emperor and the Royal Guard stopped, and Su moved forward alone. The Guard would stay here, acting as sentinels for the entire night, but Ling would continue once he had allowed her the traditional time to prepare.

He was running out of things to keep his mind occupied with. _I've been trusting Pan-Shu further and further lately,_ he managed. _I don't know if that's because I've decided that he's trustworthy, or if it's just easier not to worry about it. Either way, I need a resolution. It's too important an issue to ignore any longer._

The appropriate time passed, and he began down the hallway, quickly turning out of the sight of the Guard. _His show of concern last week was either genuine or supremely acted._

_Ling._

_But then again, I already know him to be proficient in disguising his true emotions. How much harder could it be to generate ones that he doesn't feel?_

_Ling!_

He reached the door, but made no move to open it, continuing his train of thought instead. _His advice thus far has all been solid, but that's no proof of anything. He would, of course, seek to win my faith before betraying it. All the same, I have trouble believing him to be a traitor…_

_LING!_

The voice inside his head had grown too loud to ignore, breaking into his thoughts and interrupting them. The resulting pause gave Ling's housemate enough time to get out what he wanted to say.

_Ling, you realize you're going to have to do this, right?_

_Of course I do. It's not exactly a detail I could have missed. I'm standing at the door to the _wedding chamber_, for goodness' sake._

_A door, might I point out, that you haven't even tried to open yet._

_All right, then._ In a desperate effort to prove the homunculus wrong, he reached for the handle and gave it a turn. The door had opened just a crack when he caught a glance of Su in the darkness. That was all it took to snap his earlier political determinations. _I can't…_ he thought in a strangled gasp, and found that he had taken several retreating steps without even thinking.

He didn't want this. He didn't want anything to _do_ with this. His head, heart, and body all rebelled against the very thought. There was no part of him that would take pleasure in demanding a husband's prerogative of this practically unknown woman almost twice his age. Well, no part of him except…

_Damn, that girl is HOT! I mean, she looked good during the ceremony, but… whew! Here I was, picturing some hag and trying to sympathize with you, when all along… Ling, you've got _nothing_ to complain about here._

It was true. Su was certainly attractive, and the age difference between them wasn't so great as to be unusual. That didn't change the utter repulsion he felt, though. He couldn't do it. Not when he could so easily picture someone he'd rather be with.

_Ah, I get it. So this is about the one-arm girl? Some kind of loyalty issue for you? Well, in that case, it looks like today is my lucky day._ Ling could almost hear the eager smirk in Greed's thoughts as he continued._ Might I remind you that there are currently _two_ souls inhabiting this body, and that Su Chang will have no idea which is in the room with her?_

The words hit home, and Ling felt his whole body relax with relief at the proffered way out. _Go for it, Greed,_ he thought without reservation.

He opened the door, happily relinquishing control over their shared body, and let another man walk into the room.

* * *

The Emperor's personal bodyguard had the night off. It was the first one for as long as she could remember, and she knew she should be using it to catch up on some much-needed sleep. No matter how she tried, though, or how she positioned herself on her thick floor pallet, unconsciousness remained elusive.

So she stared up at the ceiling instead. The wedding had gone well. She had recognized it as a potential security breach, but nothing had gone wrong. A war would be averted. Ling was finally stepping fully into his role as Emperor. She should be happy.

She told herself that again and again as if it were a lullaby to put her to sleep. In spite of the many times she repeated her happiness to the empty walls, though, her dreams that night never came.

* * *

**A/N: Hello again! I've been looking forward to writing this one for ages. ****I've always thought those stories where Ling throws away tradition to make Lan Fan his one and only wife were supremely unrealistic, so I hope you like my resolution of the problem.** Sorry it ended on such a sad note! I'm trying to get about one update up every week, so hopefully you won't have too long to wait for a bit of resolution. Please please please review! Your comments are the reason I keep writing.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been more than a week since Su Chang's wedding. She had spent the intervening time roaming the luxurious Wives' Quarters. They were large enough to accommodate 50 women, but the simple knowledge that she was confined alone in them seemed to shrink them considerably. It had only taken a few days before she had started wishing that her imperial husband would hurry up and get married again just so she would have someone to talk to.

She wasn't completely isolated, though. For one, she was constantly surrounded by the group of female servants assigned to her. They were intimidated by her position and reputation, and so kept mostly silent unless directly spoken to. She responded to this by consistently projecting a kind, magisterial, motherly persona, and she knew she would win them over eventually that way. Some of the younger ones were already starting to open up. As members of the servant class, though, they were hardly the useful pawns she was looking for.

The only other people she had access to were senior staff officers and high-ranking nobles… both male and female. They, theoretically at least, had the Emperor's trust and were allowed to visit the Wives' Quarters to pay their respects to the great women who lived there.

Not, of course, without the chaperoning presence of numerous handmaids; it wouldn't do to let the most important man in the Empire be publicly cuckolded. Good thing Su wasn't interested in forming that kind of relationship anyway.

What she _did_ want was a political ally. She needed someone who could move freely outside the Wives' Quarters, someone who would feed her the constant stream of information that she needed in order to plan. Someone who had the power, authority, and scrupulousness to act as her hands within the wider world. She needed Pan-Shu.

She thought about sending one of her maids to him with a request that he visit her, but quickly dismissed the idea as excessively obvious. She would simply have to wait for the spymaster to come of his own volition to pay his traditional respects.

He kept her waiting for quite some time. _Wong_ had come the day after the wedding. The court secretary had introduced himself in his quick manner, hoping that the ceremony the day before had been to her liking. Though it was supposed to be a social visit, Wong went about it in as business-like a manner as possible, asking about her handmaids and her arrangements within the Wives' Quarters. Su had laughed silently to herself to see that the man matched up so perfectly with her spies' descriptions of him.

All of the Emperor's important generals had trickled in during the following days, until it seemed that Su had met every significant imperial officer _except _Pan-Shu. She felt her frustration and impatience mount while she charmed her stupid handmaidens and watched the days pass by without an appearance of the spymaster.

Finally, though, after more than a week of waiting, the small man showed his face in the Quarters.

She was sitting in one of the water gardens, attempting to weave a cotton robe. She had started off with silk, and managed to form a monstrous knot at least 4 inches in diameter before her maids had forcibly intervened. Now she was working with a commoner's thread, ugly and coarse, but admittedly easier to deal with. The mess on her loom looked a good deal more like a rug than a robe, but at least it was roughly 2-dimensional.

Her handmaids formed a circle around her, each with their own loom, half-filled with perfectly gorgeous silk. They made a show of focusing on their own work, but Su felt their sideways glances and suppressed giggles.

_This is so stupid,_ Su thought. She slammed the shuttle down on the newest line of her cloth and watched it buckle into the line beneath it. _What on _earth_ is the purpose of this activity? I'm a _queen._ How is it that I am expected to perform the same household chores as a farmer's wife?_

She wasn't doing it to fulfill some abstract expectations of femininity, though. It was really for the sake of her servants. As frustrated as it made her, she could tell that watching her struggle with a task that they found so simple was doing more to win them over than anything else could.

It was nothing but an unfortunate coincidence, then, that Pan-Shu had chosen that moment to make his long-awaited appearance.

He walked slowly into the water garden, waiting until Su looked up to give his greetings. "Good morning, Empress Chang," he said in his low voice.

His words were polite, but his eyes stayed fixed on the knotted cloth growing before her, one cool eyebrow pointedly raised. If Su had had any less control over her emotions, she probably would have blushed.

Instead, she stood calmly from her loom and gestured for her maidservants to begin packing it up. "And to you, Spymaster," she responded. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I came to pay my respects, and to see how you were transitioning to life in the palace." He looked over the busily packing servants as he continued. "I know that your days here in the capital must be very different from what you were accustomed to in Chang, but it is good to see that you are trying so hard to make the change."

_Is that another jab at my handiwork?_ Su wondered. _I really hate this man._ "I am touched by your concern," she voiced, "but surely, if you were all that worried about me, you could have visited sooner? I find the loneliness of the Wives' Quarters by far the most difficult adjustment."

Pan-Shu smiled. "My apologies, Lady. I'm afraid my work has kept me quite busy as of late. Please do not attribute my tardy appearance to any deficit in affection."

Su gave a gracious smile. "Of course not. If I may ask, though, what is it in your work that has been keeping you so occupied that you could not spare the time to visit me?"

"Oh, many things. You know how tasks will pile up when left unattended for a short while."

_He's not going to tell me anything,_ Su thought with resignation. _Not that I expected him to. I need to address his loyalty to the Yao boy first._ "Yes," she said with a nod, "I understand precisely what you mean. I assume my husband must be experiencing a similar effect right now. I haven't seen him since the wedding, but I'm sure this is because he is positively swamped. The celebrations must have set him back quite a bit, and an Emperor has so many duties."

"Indeed," was his reply.

_Such a short answer. I must assume that my husband _isn't_ planning to visit me, then. And I thought we had such fun on the wedding night! _she thought with a mocking laugh. _In any case, this makes things easier for me. The less observation I'm under, the better._

The servants were out of earshot now, lining the collapsed looms up against the wall of the garden. Su looked across at them and pursed her lips, assuming a thoughtful expression. "Pan-Shu…" she said, trying to give the impression that she was about to open up a little, "what can you tell me about my husband? I'm sworn in eternal fidelity to him, and yet I barely know the man. He… I don't think he likes me much. It's understandable, considering the fact that I've been a political nuisance to him until recently, but things are different now."

She gestured to the luxuriant garden. "This is my life now. This is how it will be for the _rest_ of my life. This is the only marriage I'll ever get, and I want a chance to know the man I'm married to."

The spymaster looked across at her, as if judging her sincerity, and then spoke with surprising honesty. "He's a sweet boy, but a fool. The silly kid really thinks he can change things in this country. I've kept him afloat this long, but I don't know how long I'll be able to keep it up."

It was just as Su had thought. Pan-Shu _was_ the brains behind the Emperor's surprisingly intelligent operation. She let a smile come to her lips. "That's about who I thought he was."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment with treason hanging tantalizingly before them. Finally, Su took the plunge. "Perhaps a different Emperor might have more success with the clans. This country needs an intelligent man… or woman, as the case may be… who is willing to stamp down with strength and enforce order. Otherwise, anarchy will soon reign."

"You may be right about that," he said.

She had watched the spymaster's face carefully as she spoke, and felt confident that he understood her meaning. Confident enough to drop the act. "I'll need you to bring me information. Everything you know."

"And when the time comes?"

"You'll support my ascension to the throne and be amply rewarded for it."

Pan-Shu looked her in the eye and then let out a short laugh, his aspect completely changing from its previous serious intensity. "I thought you would be plotting something sooner or later, but I never guessed you'd make a move within the first week! You do realize that the Emperor will hear about this, don't you?"

Su's blood went cold. "You mean you'll tell him?" she gasped. She'd committed herself too soon. It's just, she had thought… never mind, it didn't matter what she had thought. She had been wrong.

"Oh, I would if I thought I needed to, but I'm pretty sure Ling will figure it out on his own."

"What?!" she almost shouted. "But you just said he was incompetent! And why are you trying to protect him, anyway? You must know that someone will replace him soon enough."

"I doubt that, since he's quite good at what he does. In fact, I've never seen a greater political genius in one so young. If anyone could unite the clans while maintaining his seat as Emperor, it would be him."

The words sunk in, and Su realized that she'd been living in denial of this fact for almost two years. She hadn't been able to accept it, the idea that she was being outmaneuvered and outthought by a boy. A boy who held more control and tangible power than she ever could.

"And as far as my attempts to protect him go… all I can say is that Ling Yao is a good man. You may think me stupid for saying it, for I feel stupid enough believing it, but his goodness is somehow the most magnetic part of his personality. He believes in what he is doing, and he makes you believe in it too."

His next words pulled her out of her revere. "You say you want to get to know your husband? Do it. You'll realize what I already know: that you are one of the fifty luckiest women alive."

With that he walked away, leaving Su to stare after him until fountains blocked her view. Her maids had reassembled around her, and were whispering frantically, trying to figure out what the spymaster could have done to upset their mistress so much. Su paid them no heed, though.

Pan-Shu's words had taken her completely by surprise and filled her with one overwhelming question. _Who _is_ my husband, anyway?_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! (I made the mistake of discovering Soul Eater, and watched the entire thing in a week. Now my next story is definitely going to be about Death the Kid.) I know this chapter is pretty boring, too, so sorry for that also. I need to do a little bit more set up before the next awesome thing can happen, but I swear it's coming!**


	10. Chapter 10

Ling Yao sat in an antechamber, empty but for himself and his bodyguard, staring at a piece of parchment. It had been handed to him discreetly over breakfast, but he hadn't had the privacy to read it until now.

It wasn't a report from Pan-Shu, nor yet from any of the other official departments within the palace. The ouroboros symbol at the top of the page marked it as coming from his own personal spy force.

Though he depended on Pan-Shu and his other officials to keep track of events throughout the empire, he wasn't blind to the possibility of betrayal. As a counter-measure, he had spent the time since taking the throne carefully building a network of informants unknown to and independent of his senior officers, tasked with keeping tabs on events within the palace. He had had reason to be glad of his caution before now, and the report before him reinforced that feeling more than ever.

"It seems that our dear spymaster has finally paid his respects to my new wife," Ling said aloud.

The guard looked up from where she was standing by the door.

"One of Su's handmaids is in my pay," he said by way of explanation.

The guard raised her eyebrows, and the Emperor smiled as he realized what he had said. "Well, obviously, they're all in my pay. I just pay one of them extra to keep me up-to-date on Su's activities.

"You see, I've been expecting her to try to enlist an ally in the palace, and it makes sense that she would target one of the senior officers. Sure enough, this report tells me that Pan-Shu's visit included a long conversation out of earshot of the maids, during which Su appeared progressively more irritated. Pan may have given her an answer she disliked, but I find it just as likely that he agreed, and the only difficulty was over price. Either way, it's disturbing that I haven't heard about the incident from Pan-Shu himself. He must have known I'd learn about it sooner or later, so why the self-incriminating silence?"

The Emperor leaned forward and rested his chin on a closed fist. "It's almost as if… he wants me to mistrust him. I don't know what that means."

He looked up from his musings to discover that his guard was no longer listening. She had re-focused her attention on the door, and the creaks of the floorboards beyond it. He felt a brief moment of irritation, but then Greed spoke up.

_Dude, shut up and let the woman do her job. I don't know if _you_ care, but I'd like this body we share to stay in one piece._

Ling let out a small snort. _Ah, what a great friend,_ he thought sarcastically. _I can always trust you to look out for my personal well-being. In any case, I need to go look into this._

He stood and straightened his robes. "Well, that's enough speculation. Let's go speak to Pan-Shu directly. Maybe I can get an answer to my questions by putting him on the spot."

_You really think you'll be able to get anything out of that old geezer? To put it gently, that guy's been out-acting you since day one._ Greed let the thought hang there a moment in silence before making a suggestion. _… Though you might have more luck with Su._

_Huh,_ Ling thought with surprise, and some small triumph.

_What?_

_Oh, nothing. It's just that you actually used her name. I was expecting "that Chang woman," or "your wife lady," or something like that. You normally seem to have some sort of aversion to proper nouns._

_Yeah? Well it's not like you're one to talk!_ Greed responded quickly, flustered. _I don't think you've said that girl's name aloud since I regained consciousness!_

For a moment, Ling was confused who the homunculus meant, but then he noticed the bodyguard standing directly in front of him. Her attention was now focused entirely on him, and as he broke out of his internal argument and met her eyes, she blushed and glanced away.

The Emperor felt his stomach drop slightly at the sight. _Her?… I don't deserve to say her name._

The comment was directed toward himself more than anyone else, but Greed still sent back a questioning feeling.

_Never mind,_ he thought, and quickly spoke up. "Greed has pointed out that I might get further with Su Chang, so I'm going to go visit her in the Wives' Quarters."

The guard nodded, though she still wasn't meeting his eyes. "Of course, my Lord. I can escort you there just as easily."

"Oh no, I can make it there on my own." Things had gotten awkward far too quickly, and Ling was eager to curtail the conversation. "Why don't you take the afternoon off? Catch up with some sleep for once!" he said with an encouraging smile.

She seemed about to object, so he cut her off. "I'll take the Emperor's Tunnel, so it'll be perfectly safe."

Something in her frown changed at the mention of the Tunnel, but she gave a dutiful bow. "If my Lord wishes privacy, I will, of course, oblige."

_What did I do?_ Ling wondered in surprise. Aloud, though, he simply thanked her and then watched as she left.

_Smooth, buddy, smoooooth,_ came the snarky voice inside his head as soon as she was out of sight.

_I just have her the day off! How is this a bad thing?_

_You just told your girlfriend that you're going to go sleep with your wife. That girl might be long-suffering, but nobody's perfect._

_I what?!_

_You asked your bodyguard to clear out while you visit your recent bride, and then specifically mentioned that you'd be using the Emperor's Tunnel. What was she supposed to think?_

Ling felt blood rush to his face as he realized the magnitude of his blunder. _Oh…_

The Emperor's Tunnel was a secret, private passageway that ran from the Emperor's bedchamber to the Wives' Quarters, built by ancient Emperors who had wanted to avoid making their nighttime excursions the subject of palace gossip. The Emperor himself held the only key, though he would traditionally order copies to be made for a few of his favorite wives. It was famous, then, not only as a means, but also as a locale for many imperial rendezvous.

_Yeah, you were practically rubbing it in there, _Greed pointed out.

Resisting the urge to become even more embarrassed, Ling did his best to collect himself. "It's for the best this way," he said aloud. "She can't ignore the truth forever. I am a married man, and will be so again, and I will perform my duties as such."

_You mean that _I_ will perform your duties for you, so… I don't see what the big deal is._

"Don't worry about it then. You wouldn't understand anyway."

The Emperor ignored the feeling of mock hurt that the homunculus sent him and instead focused on selecting the correct key from the chain around his neck.

_No, no, no, no, no… Ah, here we go._

He pulled back one of the many curtains on the back wall of the chamber to reveal a cleverly disguised door. He fit the key into the lock and turned. _Let's just go do what we need to,_ he thought firmly, steeping onto the dim staircase.

_As you wish, my liege_, Greed responded with extravagantly mellifluous sycophancy.

_Okay, seriously, I need you to shut up. Now,_ Lind demanded, and the homunculus unexpectedly complied.

They walked the tunnel together in mental silence and soon reached the staircase at the opposite end. Ling unlocked the door and stepped out into a beautiful rock garden, currently vacant. His first thought was to wait for a servant to escort him, but then he realized that the only servants in the Quarters would be waiting upon the Empress, its only inhabitant.

The Emperor sighed and began searching on his own. The quiet of the empty chambers was almost oppressive as he walked through them, each one appearing more abandoned than the last.

Greed spoke up again. _It's kind of eerie in here… _he said quietly, and Ling silently agreed.

The next room he tried, though, was different. There were maids sitting in a circle on the floor, laughing and chatting as they worked their small embroidery hoops. Su Chang sat in the center, apparently receiving a step-by-step lesson in how to properly thread her needle. Each failed attempt brought another round of laughter from the girls, and Su laughed along with them, clearly inventing new ways to misinterpret their commands each time.

Ling was impressed despite himself. _Barely more than a week and she's already got them wrapped around her finger._

_She sure isn't a housewife, though,_ Greed said with a mental snort.

Ling looked at the colorful knot of thread that represented Su's attempt at embroidery and had to suppress a snort of his own. _You've got her pinned there._

Just then one of the maids looked up and noticed Ling. Surprised and a little embarrassed, she immediately fell silent, drawing the attention of the rest of the group. Soon the entire circle was quiet, and Su looked up to meet Ling's eyes.

"My Lord," she said, standing and giving a deep bow.

"My Lady," he responded with a slight incline of his head. "My duties have kept me busy until now, but I thought we might take tea together."

"I am honored, my Lord. I hope you will not take it as an impertinence, but I think the greenroom would give us a lovely setting for such a meal, if you would allow it."

"As you please."

The servants were on their feet in an instant, scurrying to make the preparations. Su, meanwhile, guided the Emperor slowly to the greenroom, located near the center of the Wives' Quarters. By the time they arrived, the table was already set with gorgeously glazed dark green teacups, though the tea itself was still absent.

The Emperor and Empress sat across the little table from each other on delicate bamboo chairs, and a handmaid approached to quietly apologize for the delay.

"The tea will be ready shortly," she said, while bowing and backing away.

Ling nodded and then looked across the table at his wife. She was watching him carefully, clearly curious what had brought him to visit her.

"How does my Lord?" she asked to fill the silence.

"Well enough. And you? How are you settling in to your new life?"

"Oh, little by little. It is a large adjustment for me, but a great honor."

Ling nodded. "Have you received many visitors? I hope you have not been left on your own for all this time."

"Oh, no! I have met many of your senior officers. They have been very kind in welcoming me into the palace."

"Has Wong seen you yet? I hope he lived up to your image of the great court secretary."

"He did indeed," she said with a small smile, "and I found both his height and his manner precisely as I had pictured them."

Ling returned her smile. "And Pan-Shu? Have you met our infamous spymaster? What did you think of him?"

Her eyes dropped to the teacup in front of her. "…Yes," she said after a slight pause, "he visited me quite recently. I believe he was the last of your officers to do so."

_So she made the offer,_ Ling thought, reading her body language. _But what was his response?_

"And what did you think?" Ling repeated aloud. "Was he every bit the stern, tight-lipped miser you expected?"

Su gave a light laugh. "I'm still not sure what to make of that man, but he definitely wasn't what I expected."

_Huh, _Ling thought. _So they didn't quarrel over money. That means… he refused. By her odd response I'd guess that he wasn't even tempted. Why didn't he say anything to me about it, then?_ A couple words with Su had brought him more information than he'd expected, but his misgivings about Pan-Shu remained. There were still too many unanswered questions.

And none of them, unfortunately, were questions that Su Chang could answer.

One of the handmaids brought the hot tea in antique pot that had been artistically re-glazed over the centuries until it looked like it had been made out of glass rather than clay. She poured for Su, and then handed the pot to her mistress so that she could pour for the Emperor.

_I didn't expect it to be this easy. Su Chang practically handed over the information I wanted… though I guess there wasn't really any reason to hide it. She must think that Pan-Shu already told me._ He watched as his wife filled his cup to the brim with a heavily steaming tea. He wafted the heavy fumes and moaned, _Now I'm stuck here at least until this cools down enough to drink._

_Hey, Ling,_ Greed called out, interrupting his train of thought. _How about you let _me_ take the reins for a little while?_

_What?_

_You're sitting across the table from a very attractive (and, if might I add, talented) woman. I don't want you to screw it up by ignoring her for the rest of the meal now that you've gotten what you wanted._

Ling almost laughed at that, but instead gave a mental shrug. _Sure. Why not?_ He felt a wave of pleased satisfaction coming from the homunculus before he relinquished control and shifted to the back of their shared mind.

_Don't make it too obvious,_ the Emperor reminded him as they switched places.

_Right, right,_ Greed responded. _I'll sit up straight and all that._

Su was holding her cup now, but not drinking, letting the heat radiate into her hands.

"Well, it's good to hear that you've had some visitors; I was afraid you might be bored in here." Greed's eyes wandered to the servants standing at the edges of the room and he allowed a small smirk to appear on his face. "It seems you've been doing a good job of keeping yourself busy as well. That was some… ah… nice handiwork I saw when I came in."

Su looked up with a steely glint in her eyes. "Oh, is my Lord interested in embroidery? If that is the case, I would love to see an example of your imperial needlework sometime."

Greed let out a deep laugh. "Touché," he told her, "but I'm afraid I'm only an admirer of the textile arts. My talents lie in other directions."

"Such as…?"

"Oh, you know," he flashed a wide smile. "Fighting. Smooth talk. Using smooth talk to get attractive Chang princesses into bed with me."

Su raised a cool eyebrow at the comment, but only after suppressing a snort. "And how often has that worked out for you?"

"Just once so far, but it's still a new technique. I have strong hopes of future success."

Su gave a small wicked smile. "Good luck with that one."

_PLEASE, Greed! _Ling mentally begged. _This is embarrassing…_

_No way in hell, buddy. It's my turn to have some fun for once._

"But we've strayed from the theme," Su continued. "You bring in fighting, among other things, as a skill that somehow excuses you from your lousy needlework. Does this same reasoning not also excuse my pathetic attempts? Or…" A threatening look entered her face. "Is it somehow different because I'm a woman?"

Greed decided to avoid the main issue there. "You know how to fight?" he asked instead.

"I am quite capable with a sword, thank you. Emperor or no, I'm pretty sure I could take you."

Greed leaned in close. "I'd like to see that," he told her in a low voice.

The tension stretched for a moment before he let out a laugh and leaned back. "Unfortunately, I don't fight girls. I'm not that kind of guy."

At that moment, a maidservant entered the greenroom at a run, stopping to kneel a few feet away from the table. "My Lord," she called once she had her breath back. "You are needed in the War Room!"

_Aaaaaand it's your turn again, Ling._

* * *

**A/N: I'm back from the dead! Just so you know, I do NOT plan on abandoning this story until it's completely finished. When life goes crazy (like it did over this last month), it'll just take me a little while. Thank you SO MUCH for reviewing! It's what motivates me to hurry up and finish a chapter. Please leave me something again this time! I hope you're still enjoying the story.**


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